Under My Nose
by gabby1017
Summary: Edward Cullen turns thirty in six months and wants to leave the dating scene to find his "Miss Right". Leaving his restaurant behind, he drives a carriage in the French Quarter of New Orleans searching for true love. Who is it? And will he know, when he finds her? Or will she be right under his nose?
1. Chapter 1

Under My Nose

Edward Cullen sets a deadline of six months to find his true love, before he turns thirty. Leaving his successful restaurant to drive a mule-drawn carriage into the French Quarter of New Orleans, he searches for the meaning of true love, because he has yet to understand it. Will he know when he finds her or will she be right _under his nose_? Can bubbly, buxom Bella tantalize his taste buds with beignets and an abundant

booty?

Chapter One:

EPOV... LATE DECEMBER

The sound of thunder echoes and jars me out of my scattered thoughts, as the light turns green. Shaking my head and focusing on the traffic, I take a sharp turn onto my street and pull into the packed parking lot on the side of my two-story building. Lightning cracks and splinters into electric fingers, stretching over the black sky, illuminating my pathway. I grit my teeth with exasperation and look ahead. "Fuck." The only space available is at the other end of the lot.

Maneuvering my brother's brand new Vette close to the edge of the grass and giving myself more room on the driver's side, I push the car door open, rush out and jog through toad strangling raindrops, as they pound heavily on my leather clad shoulders. I hurdle around muddy bumpers and dance over rain-filled potholes. Once I walk through the side door and shake off some rain, I drag my feet up the narrow and dimly lit stairway shivering from chills that seep through my soaked Nikes. Out of breath, I pull off my cap and run my shaky hands through my sopping wet hair and down my week-long, scraggly beard, grasping both railings and slowly pulling myself forward.

The incessant chatter from the restaurant below hums on, but the noise of an active kitchen lessens with each step I ascend. By the time I reach my door, I hear but only soft whispers and echoes of clanging pots as I make my way into my apartment.

Flipping the switch to the overhead light, I slip off my sneakers and roll my socks down throwing them near the doorway. Pulling my cell out of the pocket, I shrug out of my drenched, Black Hills jacket and hang it to the right, on one of the curved, wooden arms of the entrance hall-tree and cup my cap on another.

I think I'm basically a simple guy with simple tastes, but I have a mother who likes to decorate and I never say no to her offerings. Needless to say, I have GQ manly surroundings courtesy of Esme Cullen, who takes no prisoners and expects said manly surroundings to stay presentable.

It is my home, but I am an obsessive clean freak, because of her. Wait. I have dust, and I'm proud of that dust. A real man doesn't fucking dust. But, my clothes are in closets and dresser drawers and never on the floor. There are no dirty dishes in the sink, in my bedroom or the living room coffee table, no food on the countertops and the bathrooms are sparkling... almost immaculate. The mirrors are spotless, the toilets are full of Scrubbing Bubbles and the seats stay up. Hey, I'm a guy. The seat stays up. No food rots in my refrigerator, and I always hang my wet towels on the warming racks. My cleaning lady Margaret says I am a dream come true that she has little to do, but dust.

My mother believes kitchens and bathrooms must be clean or you open your home to critters and germs. I don't like critters, and I don't want germs. I lean down and pick up my fucking, dripping socks off of the hardwood floor.

I feel comfortable with my surroundings. The apartment is a conversion of four separate units, taking up the entire second floor of my building with the restaurant downstairs.

From the front door, you walk right into my living room area. Mom says the walls are an eggshell color. To me, they look cream, but what do I know about a color palette. The floors are a dark wood with earth-tone scatter rugs that strategically lay around the room.

I have brown-leather sectionals, a few Lazy boy matching recliners, end and coffee tables, bookshelves and, the pièce de résistance, my sixty inch, flat screen.

I don't bother with an office, since I have one down in the restaurant. There is an average-size kitchen, hence, the restaurant's kitchen. I really don't need anything elaborate in my living space. Although any woman would cook happily... Mom's words, not mine.

There are three enormous bedrooms with en suites. My bedroom is the last one down the hallway. The walls are a dark brown. There's a king-size, platform bed of mahogany wood with a light and dark brown, geometric-patterned comforter and a bunch of earth toned pillows. Margaret likes to fluff them.

I have a 46 inch flat screen TV over one of my dresser and one of my mother's paintings above my bed. It's an incredible likeness of the skyline of New Orleans at dusk.

Other than my living room TV, my walk-in, doorless shower is a water haven and one of my prized possession. There are jets on the ceiling, walls and floor, all computerized for my showering pleasure. At a flick of a switch or push of a button, I can set off three shower heads on the top ceiling, four on the angled ceiling to the right, three on one wall and two hand-held sprays on the other wall. The temperature is a warm seventy-eight to eighty degrees. With an overhead stereo system, lighting dimmer and a wood-burning fireplace across the stall, the bathroom is my Utopia. Unfortunately, I have yet to share a scintillating shower with any creature of the opposite sex.

Although, Emmett begs on a constant basis.

The sound of the thunder fades off into the distance as I walk out from my water haven and peek out the small window that looks out over Magazine Street. I watch the storm drift away with a slight drizzle on the window pane. People skip lightly, with umbrellas in hand dodging puddles, making their way to the nightlife of New Orleans. I do a quick wipe over myself and wrap the towel swiftly around my waist. The sizzle of the gas heater clicks in, and a burst of heat floats in my direction.

I walk over to the gas heater near my bed, remove my towel and stand bare ass, absorbing the warmth. I bend to towel dry my hair, as my front door bangs open.

"Bro, you here?" Emmett boldly calls out to me.

"Yeah, in my room," I shout out to him and continue drying off.

I can hear my refrigerator door open and close and heavy footsteps walking in my direction. Emmett stands in my doorway, chomping on a cold piece of pizza and assesses my position. "Nice ass, but your balls are shriveling up."

I sarcastically sneer at him, "Nice to see you, too." And casually walk to my dresser, take a pair of boxers and slide them on. "What's going on?"

"Haven't seen you all day; where've you been with my fucking Vette, Ed-_**WARD**_?" He shifts his weight and leans back on the doorframe, throwing the dried crust of the pizza in a wastebasket, and crossing his muscular arms over his well-defined chest.

"Yeah, and thanks for the loan. I couldn't very well bring all that feed on my bike. I was in the Quarter for a while and parked in the lot, no street parking. Carolyn was giving me a rundown of the routes to take." I sit on the edge of my bed and roll on a pair of Argyle socks. "Then, we went over to the stables," I emphasize, "I parked away from the horse stalls and I covered your trunk with a blanket, before I put the bags of feed in." Emmett rolls his eyes, as I walk into my closet and yell out, "I spent some time with Julia."

I can hear him mumble something about stupid horse shit. Emmett frowns, as I walk out of my closet in only jeans, pulling an emerald green, V-neck sweater over my head. I look down and slide my feet into a pair of black loafers.

"You're still going to do this?" he uncomfortably asks. He surprises me with his quiet question.

"Yeah." I shoot him a glare.

"Edward, I don't understand." He lifts off the doorway, walks over to me, places his hands on my shoulder and stares into my eyes. "Man, you're spending too much fucking time with a jackass. How is that gonna find you a fucking woman?"

I shake my head, and huff, "Emmett, you don't understand." I walk to my dresser, grab my wallet and shove it into the back pocket of my jeans. I grab my cell phone and keys. I also hand Emmett his keychain, and he mumbles a 'thanks'.

"Then, explain this cockamamie idea to me," he pleads.

"I've got to get downstairs." I glance at him, grab the garbage bag with Emmett's uneaten crust and head toward the door.

He follows. "I'll walk with you. C'mon, Edward, for Christ's sakes, talk to me." He now groans.

We enter through the back door of the restaurant; my restaurant. The kitchen crew is doing their nightly clean up routine, and the cooking staff looks over my menus and prepares the grocery list for the week. As I walk by, they all nod and continue their jobs.

Emmett is at my heels. I can practically feel his breath on my ear, as I throw the garbage bag into a huge container.

"I'm going to sit at the bar and wait you out, Lil Bro." He grabs my arm and swings me around. Pointing his finger in my face, he spits, "You're going to talk to me. " I try to protest. "No, I loaned you my fucking car, you owe me!"

We both exit the kitchen and enter the large dining room area that seats around 60-70 patrons. We sizzle with sexiness according to the nightlife media. With our deep colors of oranges, gold and black, each table is roomy for a large group and intimately private for a romantic couple.

Emmett briskly walks over to the bar and hits Jasper, my best friend and the restaurant's manager, up for a drink. I watch their tete a tete, as they break apart and both stare at me. Emmett sternly ruffles his brows, points and mouths, "I'll be here!" He plunks down on a stool and takes a large gulp of his drink. Jasper folds his arms, makes a silly face and mouths, "I'll be here, too!"

I roll my eyes at both of them and turn to the hallway, leading to my office. I unlock the door and open it to a cluttered desk of messages, mail and the sack of cash and credit receipts from tonight's restaurant and bar tabs. Everything else is on my computer.

I fall into my well-padded, high-back chair and sink into its comfortable padding. Leaning back, I crack my knuckles, take a long sigh, reach forward and turn on my computer.

It's past closing time when I look up from my monitor. The hum of the dishwashers echo around me, and there is still a faint smell of garlic in the air. I stretch my legs and arms with a long yawn, as both Jasper and Emmett invade my private domain.

With a fierce glare, Emmett cozies himself onto one of the swivel chairs in front of me.

Jasper gives me a slight smile and places a bottle of Heineken on my desk. I give him a nod of thanks.

"What's the plan, Stan?" Jasper sits next to Emmett on the other chair and gulps from his beer.

Emmett stares at me with his arms hanging off the sides, holding his beer bottle at the tip of the neck, swaying it back and forth. "You can't hide away from me."

I defend myself. "I wasn't hiding, Emmett. I was closing out my restaurant."

"You were sticking your head up your ass, Edward. Now, fucking explain." He raises his voice enough to show his hidden irritation. "I've waited over two and a half hours."

"I didn't ask you to stay. That's your own damn doing," I snap.

Jasper clears his throat. "Do you want to tell me what this is all about?"

Emmett flies out of his chair and paces back and forth with his arms flailing in all directions. "Jazz, he's fucking crazy."

"I'm assuming this is about Edward's extra employment activities?" Jasper nonchalantly murmurs.

"C'mon, Jazz, don't tell me you agree with this shit?" Emmett pleads and sits back into the chair.

"He has to do what he has to do, Em." Jasper slowly sits back and crosses one leg over the other at the ankle.

"Would you do this?" Emmett strains the veins in his neck.

Jasper grunts. "I don't have to. I have Alice."

Emmett glares at me. "Did you hypnotize him?"

Before I can say anything, Jasper yawns, mixing up his words. "I'mnotsayingIagree."

"What?" Emmett shakes his head.

"Look, I wouldn't go to this extreme. But this is Edward." He looks at me. "No offense."

I mumble, "None taken."

"Look, man, I've been with Alice, since diapers. She's had my balls in a knot, since I realized what I could do with them." He chuckles, "Or since I realized what she could do with them."

"C'mon, Jazz, we all like nasty sex," Emmett explains. "But to go search it out with a fucking mule?"

"Hey, don't talk about Julia like that!" I defend.

"Edward, she's an ass. A donkey you named Julia Childs," Emmett scoffs.

"I don't know why you didn't name her Jenny." Jasper adds, while Emmett frowns at him. "That's the name for a female mule, by the way."

Emmett moans, "You're an idiot. Don't encourage him, you jackass!"

He turns to me and points his index finger. "And I know exactly why you named her Julia Childs!" He rants on. "From the first rerun, she was your reason for becoming a chef." He impersonates her, "Ooooooo you must pour the wine over the chicken." He growls, "The fucking loon drenched the chicken in wine and then, guzzled down the bottle. Your crush was a lush!"

"Hey, you used to watch the shows with me!" I defend.

"Yeah, I watched the food, but you wanted Julia!" Emmett screams.

"I did not. I respected her craft. The woman was a culinary genius," I preach.

"Bull, you were looking for her culinary cleavage," Emmett taunts.

"You're both getting off the subject," Jasper interrupts.

"Emmett, I'm not fucking the mule!" I yell.

Dead silence.

"I never mentioned beastiality. But you're going to use that donkey to get you women?" He pauses and stares his eyes popping out of his head. Then, he smiles. "Maybe it's not such a dumb idea."

I sink into my chair and groan. "I am not using my mule to get women. I want to drive a carriage to understand what makes a relationship. I'll be giving romantic carriage rides."

"And you think people are going to tell you why they are with the person they're with?" Emmett growls.

"It's not what they say to me, Emmett. It's how they behave with one another. I don't have a fucking clue about real love." I grumble.

"Oh Edward, Edward... where have I failed you?" Emmett stands and sits on my desk, staring hard into my eyes. "Lil Bro, you haven't found the real one. All the chicks you dated or laid, were all fillers. Practice runs, the rungs up the ladder. You haven't reached the top of the pile!"

He sighs and collapses his shoulders and mutters, "Did you not learn anything from Mom and Dad?"

Jasper stares. "I can't help you there. I had one rung. That's all it took."

I seriously look at Jasper. "And how do you know, Jazz?"

"She's my reason for getting up in the morning and getting into bed at night. Edward, you'll have to feel this on your own. Find the yin to your yang. Your peanut butter to someone else's jelly. Your hand and the right glove."

Emmett waves his hands at Jasper. "Jazz, I think he gets it."

"Okay, I see it, but I don't feel it." I resign.

Jasper excitedly quips," Exactly. It's a feeling, Edward. You'll know when you find the right one."

Emmett stands and walks about. "Man, they're all the right one. When I get a honey to take home, I love her up."

"But you don't date, Em. You have a string of one-night stands."

"Once again, you are incorrecto, Lil Bro. I have had some women a few times." Emmett prides himself.

"But they don't stick around!" Jaspers throws in.

"Hey, I don't play. I tell every woman I'm not into "relationships". If they can handle my sex," he elongates a gesture towards his dick, "then, they experience the ultimate dream machine of orgasms."

Jasper and I groan with disgust.

"Ah, you both groan, but I have more action that the both of you put together," he boasts.

"Of course, you do. You have a retro gym down on one of the hottest streets in New Orleans. Woman work out at your place all the time. It's a revolving door of sex mates," Jasper comments.

"Convenient, yes, but I didn't open my business for personal satisfaction. It's all about health and care." He counts on his finger in rage, "I have a nutritionist, trainers, doctors. So, don't tell me I created a fucking, pussy factory for myself!"

"Maybe that wasn't your intent, but it certainly traveled in that direction, Em." Jasper points his finger at him. "Every night, you have a different woman."

"You're jealous, Jazz!" Emmett accuses.

Jasper huffs, "In your dreams, you fucker. I only need one woman."

"And that's what I want, too," I mumble sadly. "I want someone to come home to. Someone to cook with, someone to share my dreams, have my kids, grow old. And I want to find it before I turn thirty."

"You've got six months, Edward. And driving a quote 'romantic' unquote carriage in the French Quarter is bullshit. You and Julia will be the match since you will be driving couples around all the time, when will you be searching for Ms. Right?"

Jasper looks at Edward. "He's got a point there."

"And your latest lack of grooming is definitely not going to attract a female flea, unless it's on Julia." Emmett roars with laughter.

"I want to play down my looks," I explain. "Women are attracted to my usual appearance and the fact that I own this restaurant."

"So, you're going for that homeless, hobo look?" Emmett chuckles. "Oh, Edward, you're killing me here. Mom gave birth to two fine specimens of male magnificence and intellect. I pride myself on my manly appearance, and I'm proud you are my studley, younger brother. But this scraggly beard and hair have got to go."

Do you love Emmett or what?

A/N: Well, it's about time... right?

I am blessed with great help. Thank you to my Beta, Sunflower Fan Fiction. I appreciate her time, her proper grammar and quick pen.

To Robseve and Postapocalypticdepository, my pre-readers that give their unselfish time and creative input.

Next chapter is Bella's POV.


	2. Chapter 2

Under My Nose

Bella Swan needs a change of pace, a slower groove to enjoy the simple pleasures life has to offer her. She moves from the Big Apple to the Big Easy, from subways to streetcars, from nouveau chic to historically quaint, from a large Manhattan apartment near Park Avenue to a shotgun house with her eccentric aunt, in Mid City and off Canal Street. She's ready for love, commitment and that happily ever after, but does she have the patience to wait out her heart's desire? It's frustrating to be right, "under his nose".

A/N at end.

Chapter Two:

BPOV... LATE DECEMBER

There is something about the landing of a plane that exhilarates me, especially when I sit near the wings. When I hear the landing gear buzz open, I take a large breath, as the wings do a transformer thing and we descend. I hear that low whoosh, once the plane's wheels hit the ground. And with a long-drawn out screech of tires and we taxi slower down the runway, I smile broadly.

What a rush!

I fly small planes, but there's something about the big ones that gets my adrenaline hyped up. The two seats next to me are empty, so I lean back against the window with my legs up on the seats, crossed at the ankles. I'm happy about this flight. Well, I'm happy about the move from New York to New Orleans. I can't wait to feel the warmth of the sun on my face. It will be great to forgo the heavy coats, snow boots and the hectic pace. Can't wait to smell the gumbo, get a po boy, and slurp up a snowball. Hello NOLA, it's great to be here.

We come to a full stop, and immediately everyone gets up to grab their carry-on bags and exit. I sit and watch all the mayhem. They can all impatiently push and shove one another. You may hear an 'excuse me' or an occasional, 'I'm sorry', but the initial idea is to get the hell out of Dodge and beat the rush. I'll wait for the boxing matches to end, then I'll get up and leisurely, without bruises, walk down the aisle, say goodbye to the flight crew, and meet my wonderfully, crazy aunt in the terminal.

There stands Salome` Rebecca Newman-Farnsworth-Haynes-Bishop- Gold behind the ropes. She is Aunt Sally to me. I shake my head, as she bounces up and down, crying out my name. "Bella Jujubee, My Bella Jujubee!"

Her silver bangle bracelets clang together, as she woo hoos and giggles with excitement. She is a page out of the nineteen seventies, still living her hippie days. A character quite her own, after four marriages, two divorces and two widowhoods. Hmm, the jury's still out on whether or not the last one was a murder. Poison mushrooms. _But Aunt Sally swears she ate them, too._

She wears a multi-colored bandana around her long, wavy blonde hair, black, colorfully embroidered peasant blouse with matching, flowing skirt, knee-high, black leather boots, dark aviator sunglasses, and a black suede purse with long fringe that hangs over her shoulder, as she clutches a black, acrylic-knit, cardigan on her arm.

I look like my aunt with her short, chunky, five-foot stature. I am taller by a few inches, but she could quite easily pass as my mother. I laugh. My mother is a tall brunette with the figure of a swimsuit model. Yeah, well, I still have her beautiful face. Even though I have flaxen thick, long wavy hair, deep, dark chocolate eyes and a rounded booty. I say, 'All the more to love, baby!'

I finally reach my aunt, as she wraps her loving arms around me, still bouncing and shaking back and forth. We giggle and bounce together. Why fight her, I might as well join in her merriment.

She mumbles in my ear, "Jujubee, Jujubee, you are magnificent."

"Ah, you do know there is a drag queen by the name of Jujubee, Aunt Sally?" I taunt her. "She was on RuPaul's Drag Race."

"Yes, I saw her ... him... Love that show, but I didn't name you after her ... him. I named you for the juicy candy, because you were such a juicy baby!" She smirks and takes a good look at me. "When did you get so tall?"

I giggle loudly, "You've got to be kidding me, Aunt Sally. I'm all of 5'2"!"

She stands back and gives me the real once over, taking her glasses off. "Oh my God, it's like looking at myself twenty-five, thirty years ago!" She grunts. "Sorry, kid!" And grabs me again into a tight hug.

"It's not a fate worse than death, Aunt Sally. A little junk in the trunk and a full rack are extremely attractive!" I boast.

She grabs my hand. "And on that note, let's grab some beignets and hot chocolate. I'm feeling a little low in the tires."

Cafe du Monde is a landmark coffee shop that sits across from Jackson Square, an amazing historical park in the center of the French Quarter of NOLA. That's New Orleans, Louisiana. From the sidewalk, we enter the outside patio area. There is a musician on the pavement playing some light jazz, a little trumpet by a huge man in tattered jeans and a Saints' jacket and his little lady, songbird partner in black leggings, thigh-high black boots and a hot pink, faux-fur jacket with matching, page-boy hair. Sightseers rush by them with cameras hanging from their necks and clutching brochures in their fists; a few do throw change into the open trumpet case.

We find a table and sit, as a waitress approaches us and takes our order. The air has a cool nip from the evening breeze, and I bundle up. While Aunt Sally smiles at me and rubs my shoulder. "You okay, Jujubee?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." I look around. "The Quarter is pretty busy for this hour."

"It's always busy. I love it down here," she chirps.

The waitress returns in a few minutes, holding a small tray with two plates of three, heavily powdered, sugar beignets and two medium cups of hot chocolate. I palm her a twenty and tell her to keep the change. Aunt Sally gives me a dirty look for paying, but I shoo her off. Once she sees the beignets, she is lost.

She digs in, moaning in pleasure. "It doesn't get any better than this." She takes a large bite and powdered sugar sticks to her blouse, hands, upper lip and on the tips of her hair. I try to dust her off, but she smiles and shoos me away.

I smile and chew with my hand over my mouth, "Well, maybe if they were filled with a rich chocolate mousse?"

Aunt Sally's eyebrows go up, as she blows a bit at her cup and takes a quick sip. "You are a wicked girl. I do hope you will be doing some baking."

"I really want to find a no stress job for a while, but I can keep you chomping on a few pastries," I kid.

"You can start with the chocolate mousse." She rolls her eyes.

One of the waitresses leans over to me. "If you are looking for a no brainer, we are hiring someone for the late shift."

I nod my head. "Thanks for the hint."

"I'm Angela." She extends her hand to me.

We gently shake. "Well, I'm Bella, and thanks again, Angela. I'll have to stop in and get an application, before we leave."

As we leave the French Quarter, I realize that driving with Aunt Sally is a basic death threat or suicide run. She drives an older SUV and can barely see over the wheel. With her glasses down her nose, once we hit Canal Street, she weaves in and out of lanes, speeding up and slowing down. She tailgates, while honking at the cars in front of us to move out of her way. She doesn't stop for the pedestrians and whizzes around them, forcing them to run for cover. Cyclists actually see her coming and hike themselves onto the sidewalk. A group of Harleys slow down, allowing her to pass them by. And to be honest, I believe the cameras above the traffic lights don't get a clear picture of her license tags, because she is a blur.

Her new 'lifestyle' is the simple one, according to her. With all of her money, she wants to live meagerly, whatever that means? She still owns a beautiful home in the Garden District with her Mercedes SL550 Roadster, but wants to live with the 'up and comers', again, her words.

We take a left turn from Canal Street onto South Dorgenois, passing in front of a halting streetcar, and pull into a small driveway. Aunt Sally gathers up her purse and looks at me. "Oh dear, Jujubee, you look at little peaked."

I quietly thank God that we are no longer in movement. I shakily moan, "no, I'm fine." I smile at her. "Must be jet lag," I defend.

I open the door and extend my legs out, only to feel a wave of heat running up my legs to my swaying head. _Oh, that's not good, since it's cold out._

Aunt Sally is already by my side. "We can leave your suitcase in the car for now, since you feel a bit of the lag." She hugs my shoulders and escorts me to the stairway.

Focusing, I get a clear view of my surroundings. The street is lit up pretty well. Aunt Sally's house is next to a pancake restaurant. Yeah, zoning is quite open in Mid City, New Orleans. There is the parking lot across the street, for said pancake house, the house next to hers is empty, being renovated, and there are quite a few homes in dire need of repair. I look further down the street and see a spray-can drawing on the side of a dilapidated house of a homeless man, and a dog on a leash.

Aunt Sally sighs. "I know what you are thinking, why I am living here?"

"I was actually trying to read the message on that bit of graffiti." I shrug.

She links her arm in mine. "Let's go into the house, get a bit of warmth and settle in."

We walk to the front of the two-family, shotgun house. Aunt Sally lives on the right side. As I slowly climb the five-step, brick stairway, clutching the peeling paint off of the rod iron banister, I wipe my hands down my leg.

Aunt Sally opens the worn, holey screen door to an antique mahogany, inner door with an oval, smoke-glass pane. She pulls her key from her purse and fits it into the lock. "Okay, this is my humble abode."

She flips on the light, and I walk into a small living room area and look up at the twelve-foot, white ceilings. The walls are a cream color with a stucco texture. Aunt Sally tells me the house was built in 1902. A brass chandelier hangs in the center of the ceiling, sporting five beige, smoke-glass shades that hang from a brass chain of a sculpted medallion with some sort of a floral pattern around its base. On the left, the fireplace mantle is the same color as the walls. Around the hearth and the front, there are small, multi-colored pastel tiles. The hearth has a dark, metal cover with an imprint of a woman's profile surrounded by flowers. Two columns strongly maintain the first shelf with another set of columns that uphold the second shelf. A mirror graces the center. I look rather distorted in my reflection.

Aunt Sally's color scheme is soft on the eyes. Her two, Victorian walnut settees are paisley swirls of pink, lavender, mint green and light Wedgewood blue with multiple pillows of the same, solid colors. One sits close to the left of the front door, while the other faces the fireplace. Each one is in front of pale, Wedgewood blue-brocade, window draperies with underlining, pink shears. There are inlaid, carved bookshelves on each side of the fireplace from ceiling to floor, with books of literature to spells of the occult, to 'instructionals' on self-help.

An antique, Tiger Oak rocking chair sits on the left side of the room. I run my hand up one arm and take in the intricate carvings of each spindle on the armrests and the backing. The wide saddle seat shows every grain of the wood and gradual change in its colors.

Aunt Sally comments on the chair, "I found that in the French Quarter."

I smile at her. "It's lovely."

"Yeah, flashed the seller some cleavage and got it for a little nothing," she giggles, shaking her shoulders.

Shaking my head, I humph, "Slut!" _And she giggles!_

We pass through accordion, French doors with smoke-glass, and panes of cream paint to enter an office slash craft room. She leans over to turn on a small flower-painted, stain-glass lamp trimmed in a fringe of multi-colored, crystal beads. Her Queen Anne style computer desk surprises me. It's very 'antiquish' and rather a freak of history. Only Aunt Sally would toy with eras.

One whole wall on the left is shelving of fabrics, arts supplies, Mardi Gras trinkets, fashion dolls, puzzles, games, knick knacks, and decorative boxes. There is one of those library ladders on wheels with a track to go back and forth the length of the room.

Aunt Sally throws her hands up like a Price Is Right model. "Like my ladder?"

I smile and nod my head at her. "Very practical."

She mumbles slyly, "Yeah, well, you can't climb it when you're drunk."

I mumble back, "Slut!" _Damn, she giggles again._

The privacy levels of a shotgun home is nil to none. You walk from one room into another without any long hallways, hence, to get to the kitchen, you travel through every room.

Now, we continue the tour to a small hallway. On the left side is an inlaid wall closet with three sections. All cream in color with a straw weave design. Aunt Sally opens all the doors to show me where she keeps all her towels, soaps and paper goods. "If you need anything, just take," she offers.

The right side is the front bathroom. As she turns on the light, I drop my jaw and stare. The elegance of this antique, copper bathtub is exquisite. The copper shines brilliantly against the black finish of the outer shell.

Aunt Sally proudly announces, "Yeah, it's a stunner."

I crinkle up my nose. "A bit ostentatious, huh?"

"Actually, I bought it for the therapeutics. Copper has tremendous healing properties for headaches and arthritis. It doesn't rust and it has antibacterial properties to kill germs," she spouts.

"Really? I could live in this tub." Did I salivate?

I look closer at the claw feet, and the details are breathtaking. Four, birdlike, male angels, spread their wings on the upper foot of each claw and layered swirls like a bird's tail curve around the bottom part. It really is a work of art.

The pedestal sink is a red onyx carved shell with a matching toilet. Don't ask. The surrounding walls and floor tiles are a pale pinky-peach mixture.

Aunt Sally whispers in my ear, "The john's heated for warming the tush on cold days." She clears her throat. "And the floor, too," she winks.

I stare at her in disbelief and sarcasm, "Aunt Sally, you're slumming it, huh?"

I get the extended, index finger. "You never compromise your comfort, Jujubee. Remember that!" she warns. "Come, your room is next."

We head out of the throne room, and I smile to myself; ahat a way with words.

"I've redone this room a few times in the past. If you look closely at the ceiling ..." She points upward. "... there are different splotches of color. My girlfriend, Heyote`, came from New Mexico, and I went all Native American." She huffs, "Got an authentic chief's headdress in my storage closet. Another friend came in for a short buying trip, and we redecorated together. Had a blast painting us, more than the walls, but I loved the whole shabby chic thing. This room was all pink roses and highly girly.

Then, last repaint was all Mardi Gras colors. I had friends coming in and out like revolving doors. So, I've kept it in the theme colors, but lightened it up for you."

"It's really quite pretty, Aunt Sally. This bed is amazing."

The sheer fabric of Mardi Gras colors fan over the four, dark-wood bedposts. It's a huge bed, about four feet off of the ground. I look to the side and sigh in relief that there is a step stool. Otherwise,I would have to run and jump to get up. Purple, gold and green satin throw pillows match the spread, all in Mardi Gras masks, very Monet in design, like the splattering of the colors on the walls.

"I'm glad you like it. I didn't want to go back to the 'all girly' thing." She rubs my back and squeezes my hand. "You are a grown woman."

"Yeah, I am past the Rainbow Brite stage." I clear my throat. "But you know this is only temporary. I do want to find my own place."

"Of course, you do. Can't have wild, monkey sex with me around, can you now?" She wiggles her eyebrows.

"You're so weird." I mumble to myself, "Slut." _She roars with laughter, this time._

I do believe she is all red in the face. She blushes? Hmm, me thinks Aunt Sally may be hiding a man.

We quickly go through the dining room and kitchen, all standard Aunt Sally, tastefully matching the rest of the house. I didn't know that you could get a lavender stovetop, pink refrigerator, mint green dishwasher and light blue, double ovens. To be honest, it all works quite nicely.

When she takes me to her bedroom, I am beyond silent. Once again, after I pick my jaw off of my chest, and with open mouth, I scan the room, breathless, at the doorway. On all four walls, there is white-parachute fabric that drapes in scalloped-swirls with a matching ceiling.

I walk to into the room and touch the soft, satin feel of the fabric. Yup, actual parachutes. I turn to look at her, and she has this smug look on her face.

"Wow, parachutes?"

"Yeah. I got the idea, when I took up skydiving." Another little smirk escapes her lips.

I shake my head with no reason to question her. "Love the pale blue walls ..." I trail off.

"It's like being in the clouds. I wanted to recreate that free-flying sensation." She extends her hands and looks upward. "Very ethereal."

"Yeah, right?" I smile.

"Okay, let's get you settled in and then, we'll have a little food, and we can talk," she squeals. "I want to know all about this move."

"I'm here," I say.

"I can see that, Jujubee …

But I want to know why!"

So, why is Bella in New Orleans? What happened in the Big Apple that sent her to the Big Easy?

A/N: Thank you to my Beta, Sunflower Fran. I appreciate her time, her proper grammar and quick pen. Another great find by PAD!

To Robseve and Postapocalypticdepository (PAD), my pre-readers that give their unselfish time and creative input. Both of these ladies are inspirations and true friends.

Now, let me rec Postapocalypticdepository stories, since she so graciously rec'd mine.

Never Judge by the Cover: 9056924

Boys Will Be: 8868006

Rude Awakenings: 8876785

It's a New Dawn, It's a New Year: 8862243 (complete)

Thank you to all of you that sent reviews, placed me and the story in their favorites, and alerts. Also, thank you to those I could not contact.

Now, charities: Please, donate and receive endless stories for your reading pleasure. You give a little and get a lot. Help these charities reach their goals.

Fandom for Oklahoma: Donations due by July 7 2013

Fandoms for Autism (Fandoms4Autism) Donations due by July 27 2013

Fandom for Leukemia and Lymphoma Society (fandom4lls) Donations due by August 30 2013

Next up: EPOV


	3. Chapter 3

Under My Nose

Edward Cullen sets a deadline of six months to find his true love, before he turns thirty. Leaving his successful restaurant to drive a mule-drawn carriage in the French Quarter of New Orleans, he searches for the meaning of true love, because he has yet to understand it. Will he know when he finds her or will she be right under his nose? Can bubbly, buxom Bella tantalize his taste buds with beignets and an abundant

booty?

A/N at end.

Chapter Three:

EPOV... LATE DECEMBER

I just sigh and slump in my chair. "You don't understand."

Emmett pleads, "Then, tell me, dammit. Make me understand why you want to leave your highly successful restaurant, take up with a mule and look like a homeless person."

I collect my thoughts, clear my throat and answer, "I want something real, Em. I get woman coming in here all the time, trying to hook up. Every fucking night I walk in, there's someone out to get me. I don't want them that way! I want to make the choice. I want to have more ... fuck ... but I don't even know what that more is."

Jasper and Emmett sneak a quick glance at one another. Emmett moans to Jasper, "Shall I take this or do you want to?" Jasper waves him off and stares at me.

"Edward, you don't have to overthink this. Let nature take its course. Sure, there are a lot of gold diggers out there, but equally there are nice girls who want what you want," Emmett voices his opinion with a sympathetic face.

Jasper adds, "You want a partner, an equal partner. But Edward, you are fabricating this dream relationship that does _not_ exist. You have to keep this human and find your balance."

Emmett moans, "In one minute you want your 'one' and the next, you don't have a clue what that 'one' is."

"Look, Em, can we save this conversation for a later date? Jazz and I have to finish the scheduling for the New Year's Eve party night. I want to go through the times I will be in, and what we plan to do for Mardi Gras." I lean back into my chair and yawn. "This discussion about my choice is over. I'm not totally out of sight, and I do live upstairs."

Emmett points his finger toward me and threatens, "I'm not through with this, but I'll drop it for now. But so help me God, Edward, if you spend all your fucking time with that ass, I will kick yours!" He storms out of the room.

Jasper watches his exiting figure and continues to stare at the door while taking his last gulp of beer. He slowly juggles the bottle from hand to hand.

I sigh. "If you want to leave, Jazz, it's okay."

He keeps his head down, but carefully looks up at me. "Is that what you want me to do?"

"I really don't know anything, but I would appreciate you hanging around."

"Let me go grab us another beer." He gets up, walks to the door, hesitates and grabs the door frame. "He's worried about you, Edward. I know Em is a hardass, but he just doesn't get what you want to do and he doesn't know what to do for you." He taps the door a few times, shrugs and walks away.

Jazz sits at the bar. I tickle a few of the ivories at my piano, while he hums along. It's great to have a small baby grand for a little atmosphere. When I play, I bring people in with the music. Hey, the piano playing chef is a novelty. Usually women hang over me, as I take requests, and that part I would fucking like to avoid. Those handsy bitches think I'm a boy toy.

We have this slight buzz going.

The lights are low, and quite a few empty beer bottles sit in a line on the bar and the top of the piano. The place is vacant, except for our two, tipsy asses. We croon to 'Dream On', hitting the high, screechy, Steven Tyler note, while coughing uncontrollably. Both of us sound as though we hit puberty, cracking with multiple changes in our pitch. Jazz starts to laugh, and I join in.

"Man, that was sad," Jasper moans off.

"We're drunk!" I defend.

"We're not drunk, we stink," he protests. Our laughter dies down. and Jasper gets this serious look on his face. "Ah ... we're trying to have a baby." He scratches his head and sniffs.

I quickly look up at him in utter surprise. "What?"

He runs his hands through his hair, leans forward with his elbows on his thighs and clears his throat. He softly declares, "We're trying to have a baby."

"I get that part. That's great, man," I congratulate.

"Yeah well, it's not so fucking great, Edward. We have been at it for a long time and nothing's fucking happening."

I shake my head. "Look, Jasper, sometimes it doesn't happen right away."

"We've been at it for over a year, man. Doctor says we're fine, but I don't know. We're fucking like rabbits. We should have had our own football team already." He sighs and looks me dead in the eyes. "Alice is devastated."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I know how badly she wants kids," I mumble.

"She's been down for a while. Em came over the other night and had her going, though. He told her my swimmers were slow and had no sense of direction. So what did she expect? Then, she cried. I went to hold her, but Em stopped me and rubbed her back. He told her that she was too much of a fine woman, and she would get knocked up real soon. First time I saw her smile in a long time." He huffs, "Sometimes Em can surprise you."

"Yeah, he has such a fucking way with words," I sarcastically interject.

We both cool down our laughter. "I'm really sorry, Jazz. I've been going on and on about being alone and you never said anything. I feel like a selfish prick."

"No, man, Alice wants it that way. She's your biggest supporter, Edward. She's all for your romantic tours thing. If anyone wants you to find the right woman, it's Alice. Although, if she saw you right now, she would be pissed over the homeless look you've got going on." Jasper shifts on the stool and cringes.

I shake my head, half-smile and huff. "You all right, man?" I ask.

"Yeah, do you mind if I crash with you?" he pleads.

"Sure. Too drunk to drive?" I question.

"Too sore to fuck. She's killing Lil Jazz," he complains.

I roar with laughter. "Well, there's no action at my place."

"Exactly what I need." He coyly smiles and raises an eyebrow. "Maybe, you'll let me use your shower?"

Jasper walks out from my bathroom in a pair of my sleep pants,T-shirt and a towel around his neck. His dirty blonde hair is damp, clings to the sides of his jawline and down to his shoulders. He crawls into my bed on the right side, leaving me my left, a habit that goes back twenty-plus years. He pats the bed and chuckles, "Come to bed, dear?"

See, Jasper doesn't like to sleep alone. He likes a warm body next to him. Sleeping in one of my spare rooms is not an option. He's too afraid. Something about co-sleeping parents and a weird uncle. I don't recall the story, and I don't want him to repeat it.

The heater kicks in with a crackling sound and I hop into bed with only sleep pants. Usually, I'm naked, but Jazz would freak out if I lay next to him in my birthday suit. I glare at him. "Try to stay on your fucking side."

"Hey, don't start that again. I didn't realize I was hugging you, I thought you were Alice," he pouts, as he rubs his hair with the towel.

I snort, "Yeah. Yeah."

"Man, your shower is awesome. Between the heat and the massagers, Lil Jazz is feeling it." He cups himself.

I cringe. "Well, don't fucking feel anything with me. You hug or hump me, I'm kicking your fucking ass out," I warn.

We are silent.

I bring my arms up under my head and look at Jasper. "Oh, I called Alice for you. She was cool with us tying one on and you staying over. She said she was going to finally get some rest. That you were overly working her."

"Of course, she'd say that." He sighs. "She say anything else?"

"Just call her, when you get up. If you're hung over, she'll come get you, she said."

We are silent.

I announce, "I'm going to the stables early."

Jasper asks, "Want company?"

I turn to look at Jasper. "You really want to go?"

He smiles. "Yeah, I want to meet her."

"Cool." I smile back.

Silence.

I warn, "And remember to stay on your fucking side."

Jasper groans, "Damn, Edward, one lousy-ass, fucking time!"

I chuckle myself to sleep.

Jazz and I roll out of bed before eight am with cotton mouths, but thankfully no hangovers. My coffee maker dings and I head for the kitchen with Jasper close behind me.

Sitting on a stool at the island, Jasper raises his cell to his ear and calls Alice. "Good morning to you, Beautiful." He smiles.

I place a full mug of Joe in front of Jazz with milk and sugar, he nods a thank you and I exit the room with my mug in my hand.

I pull on a pair of jeans, throw on my old Tulane sweatshirt, roll on heavy socks and slide into my black leather, biker boots. As I stand from the bed, I push down the legs of my jeans over my boots.

Jazz enters with a huge smile on his face. "Thanks for last night, man."

"Hey, you stayed on your side of the bed."

He humphs, "Really?"

"You want a change of clothes?"

"You think I need to dress up to meet your ass?" he kids.

"Fuck you." I start to walk into my closet.

We laugh. I hand him jeans and a sweater. "Go into my top drawer and get a pair of boxers. So, Alice okay?"

"Yeah, I told her I wanted to go with you to the stables, and she was glad we were hanging out." Jazz pulls the sweater over his head. "She said she was going to stay in bed for a while."

I kid. "She's probably resting up for when you get home."

As Jazz pulls on a pair of boxers, he grabs his crotch and winces.

It's a brisk, sunny morning. The wind catches our faces, as we walk our bikes out of my side door. Jazz rides a black metallic Harley Wide Glide similar to mine. I have bronze and gold flames of fire on my black tank and back fender, while Jazz has metallic royal blue that outlines pale blue flames like ice. We always park them in the alcove between the restaurant and the stairway to my apartment, sparing them any other human contact other than us.

Side by side tying our bandanas tightly over our wind-blown hair, we both pull our helmets over our heads, snap them in place and start up our bikes. I adjust my sunglasses, while Jazz wears these fierce-looking goggles with the same flames as his bike. He likes to match. Then, we are off.

The stables are a little over four miles away. We ride through Uptown to the Quarter. It's a steady ride with the usual stop and go traffic.

We sit at a stoplight, as a group of young girls pull up next to us in a Mustang convertible. They ogle us, blowing kisses, and I feel like one of the old guys from 'Wild Hogs'. Jazz is on the same wavelength, because he gives me a nod and revs up his engine. I do the same and tip my head toward the girls. They go wild, shoving one another and giggling. The light turns green, our Harleys roar and we peel right out, leaving them in our dust. I look in my rearview to see their disappointed faces.

We manage to get to the stables without any other mishaps. Slowing down and quieting our engines, we park outside of the entrance.

I pull my helmet off, holding it by the strap in my hand and getting off of my bike. Jazz does the same and we walk through the stable door.

On the right is my girl. She stands with her head peeking out of her stall. She gives me a little bray and I pet her head. "Hey, Girl."

Jasper walks over, slowly raises his hand and rubs her ears. "Man, she's a beauty. She's soft." Julia nudges him closer.

She is a beauty with her light reddish brown fur and beige snout, ears, tail and mane. Her temperament is sweet and gentle, yet she's funny and bold.

I pull a small bag of peeled, baby carrots out of my pocket and hand it to Jasper. "Give her some of these, and you'll be her friend for life."

Jazz pulls a few carrots out and places them near Julia's mouth. She nips at Jasper's hand gently, takes the carrots and slowly chewing on them, making a whining noise, as Jazz runs his hands down her neck. "She's standard size, right?"

I nod my head. "Yeah."

"So what's her lineage?" Jasper questions, as he inspects Julia's long ears.

I stare at him. "You really want to know?"

"Yeah, I mean I find this all very fascinating." He clears his throat and mumbles, "I did some reading on mules."

"Why?" I lean against the wall and cross my arms over my chest, in shock. "What's your interest?"

"Well, with all the hoopla years ago over the mules in the Quarter, I wanted to know if they were abused. Then, I got into the breeding. It's really cool that they are bred for work, because of their strength and stamina."

With bug-eyes, I lean forward and stare at him. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah. I mean, if you take a large, female horse, a mare, and breed her with a sturdy male donkey, a sire, you get one mammoth mule."

I smile at Jasper's findings. "Well, Julia comes from a long line of pretty impressive parentage. Her mother was a descendant of Andrew Jackson's, Olympus."

Jazz starts, "Isn't that ..."

I interrupt, "Yeah, the statue in the Square."

"Wow, Andrew Jackson. And the donkey?"

"A descendant of Marie Laveau's," I smirk.

"That gives me chills," Jasper spouts.

"Jazz, it's not as though Julia can do that VooDoo," I joke.

"What made you decide to do all of this?" He continues to stroke Julia's neck, as she moves closer to Jazz.

"One afternoon, I was playing the piano at the restaurant. You remember those three blonde sisters?" I roll my eyes.

"Awwww, the Amazon Queens with the bad nose jobs?" he chuckles.

I snort, "Yeah. They came in for a liquid lunch of margaritas and got very physical with me."

"Oh man, I remember the younger one straddling you on the bench."

"While the other two sisters hung off of me?"

"More like held you down," he says with disgust.

"That's when I had my first panic attack." I put my head down. "I couldn't breathe to tell them to get off of me."

"I know you would never hit a woman, but I was banking odds you were thinking about it," he admits. "They were squawking Harpies."

"And Alice pulled them off of me, screaming with her cell in her hand that she was calling the police." Shaking my head, I take a large breath. "I rushed out to go upstairs, but I hopped on my bike and drove to Jackson Square. I wandered around for a while, and one of the carriage drivers asked me if I wanted a tour."

Jasper nods his knowing head.

A voice from the hallway giggles, "You looked as if you needed a friend."

I smile. "Hey, Carolyn."

Julia protests with a loud bray.

"Okay. Okay, Julia. I'm not taking your man!" Carolyn boldly laughs. "Damnedest thing I've ever seen."

Large floppy hat, working gloves, overalls and heavy-duty, shit-kicking boots walk towards us. "Edward, who've you got here?" she asks and smiles at Jasper.

"Carolyn, this is my best friend, Jasper." I look at Jazz. "Jasper Whitlock meet Carolyn Spears, my mule mentor."

Jasper and Carolyn shake hands. Jasper bends down with all of his charm. "Nice to meet you, Mule Mentor!" He winks.

Carolyn pats his shoulder. "Same here, Best Friend!" Large toothy grin on her shining face, she squeezes his cheeks. "He's a cutie; I'd trade my husband in for this newer model." She winks back at Jasper. _Did he blush?_

"Oh, Edward, I signed for your carriage. It was delivered half an hour ago." She taunts me. " It's in the carriage house." I look at her. "Yes, Honey, it's really beautiful."

I grab Jazz's arm, as excitement runs through me. "C'mon, Jazz." I drag him out of the barn. "Thanks, Carolyn."

We drop our helmets near Julia's stall and head for the carriage house.

Jazz calls out, "It was nice to meet you, Mule Mentor Lady!"

We enter the carriage house, weaving through the maze of carriages and coaches. On the right-hand side, I see the new additions in the corner. I inspect each shipping label and find my two-seater in the back.

It's an elegant, lightweight, French carriage, which depicts the design from King George IV of England. Its frame is black iron with a collapsible cover over the two-passenger seat, which is lower in the frame than the driver's seat in front. The black, canopy seats and pleated seat skirts are waterproof and stain resistant. I'm no fool. I want little to clean.

Jasper stands with his mouth open, as his eyes scan the carriage. "Wow, Edward, this is serious. What did this baby set you back?" He reaches forward and smoothes his hands over the canopy.

"It wasn't all that bad, Jazz. With shipping, it was a little over eighty-three hundred."

He whistles. "Still pricey for finding love, man."

I disregard his comment. "I have a sign in a very scripted Porcelain font that says, "Intimate Tours for the Romantic Couple" that will go on the back of the carriage."

"Yeah, I know. Alice told me," he mumbles, as he moves his hands over the seats.

"Did she tell you that it was her idea?" I blurt out.

"No." He finally looks at me.

"She picked out the fucking carriage for me, Jazz."

"I told you she was all for this." He runs his hands down the frame. "It is pretty lightweight. You do that for Julia?"

"Yeah, I don't want to tire her out."

"So ... First tour is after New Year's?"

"That's the plan." I smile.

"We'll still see you?" he quietly asks.

"Jazz, man ... I'll still be at the restaurant, during the week. We'll figure it all out." I pat his shoulder. "You act as though I'm moving the fuck away."

He stands straight, placing his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. "I don't like change, Edward. You know that."

He's so pathetic, I have to hug him.

You have to feel for poor Jasper.

A/N: Thank you to my Beta, Sunflower Fran. I appreciate her time, her proper grammar and quick pen. Another great find by PAD!

To Robseve and Postapocalypticdepository (PAD), my pre-readers that give their unselfish time and creative input. Both of these ladies are inspirations and true friends.

Now, let me rec Postapocalypticdepository stories, since she so graciously rec'd mine.

Never Judge by the Cover: 9056924

Boys Will Be: 8868006

Rude Awakenings: 8876785

It's a New Dawn, It's a New Year: 8862243 (complete)

Now, charities: Please, donate and receive endless stories for your reading pleasure. You give a little and get a lot. Help these charities reach their goals.

Fandoms for Autism (Fandoms4Autism) Donations due by July 27 2013

Fandom for Leukemia and Lymphoma Society (fandom4lls) Donations due by August 30 2013

And thank you to all the readers, whether you review or not. I enjoy every comment and suggestion. Yes, NOLA is an exciting place to live. And to combine the old world with the new is a challenge, but the humor is quite a serious business. My objective is for all of you to smile, after each chapter.

Next up: BPOV


	4. Chapter 4

Under My Nose

Bella Swan needs a change in pace, a slower groove to enjoy the simple pleasures life has to offer her. She moves from the Big Apple to the Big Easy, from subways to streetcars, from nouveau chic to historically quaint, from a large Manhattan apartment near Park Avenue to a shotgun house with her eccentric aunt, in Mid City and off Canal Street. She's ready for love, commitment and that happily ever after, but does she have the patience to wait out her heart's desire? It's frustrating to be right, "under his nose".

A/N at end.

Chapter Four:

BPOV... LATE DECEMBER

The exhaustion settles in, as I lay my head on the multitude of throw pillows on this bed. I entwine my fingers over my stomach and cross my legs at the ankles. I look up, and there are angels, naked angels painted on the ceiling. I shake my head. There are purple, gold and green angels with widespread wings or just maybe there are voodoo dolls with large capes. I stare at a group and, hmm, they look a bit too cozy with one another. I turn my head and see one is on her knees. Oh... Aunt ... Sally.

She bangs a few pots and pans in the kitchen. A few minutes later, she enters the room with a tray full of goodies.

"I see you've got a naughty Sistine Chapel going on here?" I razz her.

Aunt Sally places the tray on the bed, scoots up the stool and sits on the edge of the mattress. She shrugs and deadpans this answer, "The figures were naked in the Sistine Chapel."

I quickly blurt out. "But they weren't giving head, Aunt Sally."

She stares at me, shaking her head. "Nooo!" She looks up, squinting her eyes, moving her glasses back and forth and up and down. "Really?"

"Don't you know what you painted?" I almost screech.

"No, my friends did the ceiling. I honestly never looked at it ... closely," she confesses and gives me a half smile, shrugging.

"Well, you have pervs for friends!"

She sits up straight. "They're artistic!"

There is a short silence.

She straightens out her skirt and slyly looks up at me. "So, do you want to tell me what you are doing in New Orleans?"

"You don't beat around the bush, do you?" I stare her down.

She eyeballs me with the hawk eyes. "Why waste the moment, JujuBee?" Another drilling stare. "Talk."

I sit up and search around on the tray, grab a grape and pop it into my mouth. I mumble as I chew, "I needed a change."

"I don't understand. You were hired to be top pastry chef at the Plaza. Donald Trump liked your pie!" she shouts.

"It wasn't my pie. It was Choux pastry swans he liked, and he didn't hire me. My mother should tell the story straight," I snip.

Aunt Sally strikes back. "You've been working like a dog for a job like that for a very long time. What happened?"

I pop another grape into my mouth and chew angrily. "What happened was your sister!"

"What did Renee do ... now?" Aunt Sally leans back on the bedpost, sighing.

"It was my dream job. I thought I had reached my goal way ahead of schedule. But no. I didn't get the job on my merits." I huff. "Not on my abilities." I spit, "Not on my winnings ways of persuasion and intellect." I growl, "Nope, I got the job, because your sister, my MOTHER, decided to have a talk with the Donald."

"What? I didn't know she knew him," she says with absolute surprise.

"She doesn't. She made an appointment under false pretense to purchase a property he had for sale. She wanted to speak with him, directly," I snidely remark.

Aunt Sally scrunches up her face in displeasure. "She can't mind her own business."

I wave my hands around. "Exactly." I take a chunk of cheese and wave it around, as I complain, "So, she wormed her way into his office and took an hour of his time, talking about me. He liked her charming chutzpah so much that I got the job, over an employee that was expecting the position. Needless to say, as I walked into the Plaza's kitchen door, no one wanted to work with me. I struggled for three days, and every dessert I created was sabotaged."

Out of shock, Aunt Sally blows out a "Nooooo".

I angrily spew in a French accent. "I was dead meat, before I walked through that door. They sprinkled bits of garlic over my Tarte au Citron, and my Eclair au chocolat was covered in sea salt. And then they dusted my Napoleons with onion powdered." I knock off the accent. "All served to highly prestigious patrons and all horrendously spat out my desserts. All complained. And the finger was pointed in my direction ."

She chokes with anger. "Did you defend yourself, JujuBee?"

I shake my head. "What would have been the point? They didn't want me there. They wanted their guy to do my job that was supposed to have been his and wanted me out. So, I packed up my things, and I almost walked out the door."

"And?" she leans forward.

"I held my head high, looked all of them in the eye and told them they were all pigs ... that I came into their kitchen with high hopes and great enthusiasm to work with a team to create a mouth watering, jaw-dropping, food experience. I told them they threw me under the bus and killed my pastry chef career in New York. All for what reason? I was innocent. And that's when they all told me about my mother's plea."

She mumbles, "Oh dear G-d, Renee didn't tell you."

"She never intended to tell me what she had done. She allowed me to believe I was the shit! The pastry Messiah! I was mortified. I looked at all of them. I had no idea what she had done. And by my look, they released I was totally thrown to the wolves by my own mother. Each one tried to apologize, but the damage was done. I shook my head, grabbed my things and walked out with my tail between my legs."

She grabs my arm and pats it a few times. "Oh, Honey, I am so sorry." She looks up at me. "Did you confront your mother?"

I snort angrily. "Oh yeah. After I laced into her, I told her I was leaving New York. I didn't want to be in the same city, let alone the same state as her. She tried to explain, but I really didn't want to hear her half-ass explanations. I'm was done. I am done. I don't want to talk with her."

"Oh, JujuBee, she's your mother," she pleads.

"And that's no excuse, Aunt Sally. Because she is my mother, she should have bowed out. My career was none of her business. I am not a child. I'm twenty-seven years old. I can do for myself. I didn't need her meddling manipulations!"

"Now, I did tell you I spoke with her. She never mentioned what she had done. She only said she made you angry." Aunt Sally hangs her head.

"Aunt Sally, you're not her. You've always been upfront with me. You've always been my savior." I rub my temples. "That wasn't the only thing that drove me away."

"What else did she do?" She rolls her eyes.

I look up at the ceiling. Man, there's a lot of busy activity up there. I giggle and aw. "Every week, she would try to introduce me to a new guy. It was always a doctor or a lawyer. All wealthy, all condescending." I moan. "Just not my type. They were the kind of guys who thought they were doing me a favor to go out with the "fat" girl."

Aunt Sally tries to interrupt, but I stop her. "No. No. I am not the wallflower. I have gone out with quite a few decent guys. And NO Aunt Sally, I am not insecure about my weight. I know I am a pretty girl. I know I have extra poundage. And should a guy have a problem with it, then it's his problem not mine. Fuck him. I'm happy with myself."

"I'm glad to hear that. I'm sorry you've been through the mill and thrown to the wolves." She smiles and strokes my hair.

I shrug. "It's the past." I slap my hands together. "I'll talk with her, one day, but not now. She deserves the silent treatment. Dad agrees with me."

"I would imagine Charlie was horrified by her actions." She shakes her head.

I angrily conduct my finger in the air. "He's told her that under any circumstances she is not to call, email or text me. And should she make a call, email or text me or fly anywhere near New Orleans, he will take every credit card, savings and checking account and cash away from her."

"He's going for the juggler." She giggles.

"Aunt Sally, he's a military strategist. He knows where to strike. If my mother can't shop, she is disabled." I grimace.

"Well, you're safe here." She stares up at the ceiling. "Just keep your eyes closed!"

We laugh.

Some time during the night, I awake to whispering, giggling and grunting.

I sit up and look around very disoriented, hearing two distinct voices; one being Aunt Sally with her high-pitched cooing and the other being very masculine in his sexual prowess. Both are deep in the throes of passion.

I cross my legs, sitting Indian-style, and lean my elbows on my thighs, straining to listen with my head forward. Each illicit sound from Aunt Sally's bedroom brings me to utter tears of hysterics. I want to pee myself with laughter.

Getting up slowly, I tiptoe my way to the bathroom. After carefully closing the door, I chuckle heartily, gasping for breath with my hands over my mouth. I relieve myself, pull up my sleep pants, wash my hands and remain on the throne not sure what to do. If I go back to bed, I will hear their finish. Ew. I certainly can't stay in the john, which by the way, is toasty comfortable. The floors are warm.

I don't have to decide for long, since Aunt Sally whisks open the door quickly and screams. Then, I scream. Her male friend stands behind her and he screams.

We stop and stare at one another. Thank God, I am dressed.

Aunt Sally breathlessly pants with her hands on her chest, "I needed to get something in the medicine cabinet. By the way, JujuBee, what are you doing up?" She tightens the belt of her white, satin robe and shifts back and forth on her tiny white-feathered, high-heeled slippers.

I shrug. "What's it look like?"

Silence.

Aunt Sally's friend reaches over her and extends his hand to me. I half-stand to meet his outstretched hand. He wears only navy blue satin pajama bottoms. His naked chest tells many stories of many colorful tattoos. "How do you do? I'm Richard Dykes-Johnson."

I shake my head, pull my eyes away from his skin artwork and stare at him with many penis images running through my head. I suppose the look on my face reads like an open book and Richard, "Dick", Dykes-Johnson gives me a boisterous look and blushes. Aunt Sally sends me dagger stares.

"Dick" upchucks a small chuckle and that's all I need. The laughter begins.

Warming my hands around a large mug of tea, I sit at the dining room table across from Aunt Sally and "Dick". I can't help it, I like thinking of him as "Dick" not Richard. He wears the tops of his pajamas and I feel the loss of his tats. I swear I saw one of Aunt Sally over his heart.

Aunt Sally clears her throat. "Well, I did want to introduce you two in a better situation."

"Why? Meeting over the john is quite intimate," I kid her and wink at "Dick".

He smiles and pokes her. "Sometimes, I feel as though I'm her dirty little secret."

Aunt Sally giggles. "You're _no_ **little** secret, Richard."

He gives her a playful look and wiggles his eyebrows.

I cough to get their attention. "Well, I'm quite a light sleeper. How did you manage to get past my room?"

"I'm on the other half of this house. Since your aunt decided to go Bohemian, I use the other side as a studio."

Aunt Sally adds, "There's a door that leads from my room into Richard's kitchen."

"Oh, so he snuck in for a little monkey sex a, I see?" I sneer at Aunt Sally. I grin and "Dick" chuckles with shaking shoulders. "You didn't tell me she was just like you!"

He's honestly quite good looking with white hair and mustache and a tall, slim build, a Cesar Romero kind of guy. I watch the Golden Girls reruns.

"I can't say anything to you," she huffs and blushes at the same time.

"Get a grip, old woman," I snip and turn my attention to "Dick". I love that name. "So, what kind of a studio?"

He gently smiles at me. "Well, Bella, I'm a photographer." He slides an arm around Aunt Sally's chair, shifts in his seat and crosses one leg over the other. "I have a storefront on Magazine Street."

"And you photograph?" I interestingly ask.

"Everything, anything," he answers.

"He's being very modest. Richard is a very well-known photographer in New Orleans. People seek him out for events and personal portraits." Aunt Sally boasts proudly. "He has a six-month waiting list."

"Wow, I'm impressed, Richard." Dick, my boy! "I'll have to stop by your place and look at your etchings. Ooo, I'm bad, Aunt Sally already has," I giggle.

Richard throws his head back and laughs boldly. _Nice laugh, rather musical. I like him for her._

She reaches across the table and swats me on the arm. "I don't care how old you are, I can still ... still ... well, do something to you."

"Oh, you wish!" I smile at her. "Well, it's been great." I start to get up. "But I want to go to Cafe du Monde and apply for a job in the morning."

Aunt Sally hums, "You still want to do that?"

"Yeah. I want a simple job to keep me busy, until I decide what I'm going to do?"

Richard stands. "Well, if I can help you with anything?" He offers a hand and I reach over. He squeezes me gently. "Let me know."

"Thanks. Ah, I'm going to get back to bed." I hug Aunt Sally. "Just keep your simian sex on the quiet side!" I giggle and wink at her. I whisper and point to "Dick", "I really like him for you." And I run from Aunt Sally.

"Dick" calls out, "I like her for me, too!"

The following day, I walk the short distance to the streetcar on the corner of Dorgenois and Canal Street. I scurry up the steps and feed my money into the slot for payment. I look around for a seat, and since there are none, I stand the entire two-miles into the city, holding onto a pole. Exiting down the opposite steps on the side of the car, I pull up my collar to block the chilled wind.

The second streetcar to the Quarter swiftly passes down the tracks. It's a cloudy day and the Mississippi looks dark and dreary or maybe it's my mood. In the distance, the Crescent City Bridge is a haze through the fog. I can barely see the loops of the scalloped steel of the two cantilever bridges.

Why I would think it would be quiet in Jackson Square is beyond me, at this early hour. People rush past me from all sides, as I ascend the stairs to the Moon Walk, a platform that overlooks Jackson Square. I finally get to the top and stand at the railing, peaking out across to stare at St. Louis Cathedral and thinking as a child's view, it's a princess' white castle with it's three huge, cross-steeples.

I look to the foreground at all the carriages with mules and watch a driver veer off from the line and begin a tour. Two screaming kids and two parents yelling at screaming kids and the driver smiles through all of this.

Shaking my head, I turn to the stairway and head for Cafe du Monde. It's on the right at the bottom of the steps.

An hour later, an interview and a start date, I am the newest waitress, peddling the beignet high on January first. Feeling rather accomplished, I walk across the street to the square and enjoy all the artwork.

The first vendor displays canvases of fleur de lis, in every color and size. She sits on a small stool and paints on an easel. A few people watch on, as she whisks her brush. It's a big symbol for New Orleans. Something French, I can't recall.

I walk to the front of St. Louis Cathedral and there is a row of psychic readers with crystal balls and tarot cards. I find that kind of sacrilegious in front of a church. But hey, it's New Orleans. They greet me with simple 'hellos"'and 'Do I want a reading?', but I politely decline and walk along to the other side.

Most of the artist on this part of the Square have the same paintings of fleur de lis, landscapes and musicians.

I turn the corner, back onto Decatur, and an artist with canvases of colorful nudes ala Rubens catches my eye. I absorb each stroke of the brush, as I inspect each painting. He watches me with great intensity. It actually unnerves me a little and I start to back away, but he slowly reaches out, bends his lanky body and gently grabs my hand.

"You are very beautiful." He smiles, lifts my hand to pepper a kiss to my knuckles his bright, blue eyes never leave mine. His French accent is highly alluring along with his shoulder-length, blonde hair. "Do you model?" Oh, the seduction begins. He breathlessly whispers, "Would you model for me?" He turns my hand and kisses my palm.

I stare with my mouth open. "That was far beyond the best pickup line I have ever heard," I giggle and smile broadly. "And the hand kissing was bold, but sweet."

His perfect smile gleams in return. "But I meant what I said."

"Oh, je ne doute pas votre sincérité," I fumble through my broken French.

He stares at me with crumpled brows.

"As I thought, you aren't French," I accuse.

With his hands up, he tilts his head and shrugs in a thick New York accent, "I'm a poor boy from Brooklyn."

We laugh.

"What gave me away?" he pleads.

"One New Yorker to another!" I confess.

He shakes his head."You don't have an accent."

"I've lived in many places."

"Ah, so what did you say to me?" He shyly grins.

I boldly smile. "I said that I didn't doubt your sincerity."

"That's a start." He looks me over. "I would like to paint you."

I laugh. "Yeah, I'm sure you would, from head to toe." I pause. "But thanks for the offer." I start to walk away. "I'll see you around."

"Hey, what's your name?" He shouts out.

"Bella." I continue to walk backwards. "You?"

"Jimmy. Hey, when will I see you, again?" He places his hands over his heart.

"The first. I'm working at Cafe du Monde." I gesture across the street.

"Cool. I love beignets." His hands pump over his heart. "They keep me going."

"I'm sure they do," I agree. I give him a little wave and walk away.

One of the mules nays at me and I think, "It's a day of the ass."

Okay, keep an open mind about Jimmy. Yes, James in the past was antagonist, but that doesn't mean he's one in this story. He may win your hearts.

A/N: Thank you to my Beta, Sunflower Fran. I appreciate her time, her proper grammar and quick pen. Another great find by PAD!

To Robseve and Postapocalypticdepository (PAD), my pre-readers that give their unselfish time and creative input. Both of these ladies are inspirations and true friends.

Now, let me rec Postapocalypticdepository stories, since she so graciously rec'd mine.

Never Judge by the Cover: 9056924

Boys Will Be: 8868006

Rude Awakenings: 8876785

It's a New Dawn, It's a New Year: 8862243 (complete)

Also want to rec this period piece fic: Beyond the Wine Dark Sea by SmartMouth62: 9416302

And thank you to all the readers, whether you review or not. I enjoy every comment and suggestion. Yes, NOLA (New Orleans, LA) is an exciting place to live. And to combine the old world with the new is a challenge, but the humor is quite a serious business. My objective is for all of you to smile, after each chapter.

Now, charities: Please, donate and receive endless stories for your reading pleasure. You give a little and get a lot. Help these charities reach their goals.

Fandoms for Autism (Fandoms4Autism) Donations due by July 27 2013

Fandom for Leukemia and Lymphoma Society (fandom4lls) Donations due by August 30 2013

Next up: EPOV


	5. Chapter 5

Under My Nose

Edward Cullen sets a deadline of six months to find his true love, before he turns thirty. Leaving his successful restaurant to drive a mule-drawn

carriage in the French Quarter of New Orleans, he searches for the meaning of true love, because he has yet to understand it. Will he know when he finds her or will she be right under his nose? Can bubbly, buxom Bella tantalize his taste buds with beignets and an abundant

booty?

A/N at end.

Chapter Five:

EPOV... January 1st

The darkness of my room hides the exact time of day. Hmmm, it's odd that my digital alarm clock doesn't illuminate any numbers. I try to flip on my table lamp and nothing happens. Grabbing my cell off of the nightstand, I light the area and reach over the side of the bed to find the cords unplugged. What the hell? I plug them back in and turn on the light.

As I look around, my head pounds a steady beat, while my eyes go in and out of focus. My clothes are strewn all over my floor. I look under the covers to find I'm only in boxers. There's a red dress in the corner with a pair of red stilettos and red lace bra and thongs over a chair. Oh, God, I didn't. I rub my temples slowly, as my heart rate quickens.

I try to recall the party. All the people. All the females. I'm blank.

Next to me the blanket stirs with a slight groan, I hold my breath and my eyes focus on the movement. I pull the covers down slowly with trembling fingers, thinking 'what the fuck?'. Exhaling a large breath, I find Jasper peeking up from the blankets at me with a dazed frown.

"Jasper, what the fuck are you doing in my bed?" I gripe.

He groans, "Edward, it's way too early for all this yelling." He cringes, gripping the blankets under his chin. "Emmett, Alice and I brought you upstairs from the party. You were really out of it, man. It took the three of us to get you into bed, and you were dead weight."

"I hardly drank anything, Jasper. What the hell are you talking about?" I argue.

"You fell asleep, Edward, halfway through Auld Lang Syne. We dragged your exhausted, dream-filled ass up the stairs and threw you in bed. Emmett took your clothes off, and we both struggled while you swung at the both of us." He indignantly mumbles, "That's suck ass gratitude for ya."

"Hey, I had no idea what I was doing. But how did you end up in my bed?" I bring my voice to almost a whisper.

He stammers, looking down at his hands, "We sort of used your shower?"

I stare in utter shock. "You, Emmett and Alice?"

He looks at me oddly and cringes. "No, man, just Alice and me. Emmett went back down to the party." He cringes. "The fuck, Edward."

"And?" I sit up and glare at him.

"Well, I was too drunk, and Lil Jazz was kind of stuck in neutral." He sits up and coughs. "Ouch." He grabs at his crotch. "She got mad and went into one of the guest rooms, and told me to stay with you."

I rub my eyes and sigh. "That explains the red dress and things on the floor and chair?"

"Oh yeah, Alice left her clothes and ran away wearing a towel." He looks at me closely. "You thought you had a woman with you?" He laughs.

I stare with a sour face. "It's not that funny, Jazz."

"It is, when it's you. No one is good enough for this bed," Jasper spits out.

"For fuck's sake, you're in it!" I spit back.

He yells, "I'm not a woman, dipshit!"

I shake my head; he sighs and sadly starts to berate himself. "I can't get things right, Edward. She's always mad at me." He looks down. "My little guy is overworked and tired. She can't expect me to stand at attention, every time she wants sex." He huffs, "And that's all the time. A superhero couldn't do her all the time. She's fucking baby obsessed."

I sympathize and pat him on the shoulder. "Sorry, Jasper."

"Thanks, man." He smiles.

"So, who ran last call?" I ask.

"Oh, I ran back down after Alice shooed me away. Emmett closed up with me." He chuckles. "We drank a few more beers." I nod. "I think everyone had a terrific time. They told me to wish you good luck, tonight." I nod, again. Jasper hesitates. "Emmett left with two uncommonly …" He searches for the words, "tall ... titty women." He places his hands over his chest. "Hey, do you want me to hang out with you in the Quarter? I can stay to one side and be there if you need me."

I grin. "Jasper, I'm cool, but thanks. Carolyn's going to work tonight, too. She'll spot me."

He bounces his head, in thought. "That's good." He barely whispers, "Is she your new best friend?" He looks at me with pleading eyes.

I glare at his sad face. "You are such a woman, Jazz."

He points a finger. "Hey, that's a cheap shot."

I snort. "Jazz, you're my best friend, you have always been my best friend, and you will always be my best friend."

He smiles broadly. "I love you, Edward." He hugs me... in my bed.

I pull away. "Jasper, if you ever do that again..."

He timidly raises his hands. "I'll lose my best friend?"

"You'll lose more than that. Get the fuck out of my bed and go to Alice. Jesus." I yell.

Jasper jumps out and hops towards the door.

"You've been in my bed more than any one woman," I groan.

He turns to look at me. "You'll find her, Edward." He smiles and walks away.

Once I'm finally out of bed _(Jesus, all this talk of my bed.)_ and in the kitchen, I get the coffee machine going and I prepare snack bars for Julia. In a large bowl, I combine uncooked oatmeal, flour, shredded carrots, salt, sugar, corn oil, water and molasses. I roll them into balls, place on a baking sheet, pat them out into bars and place them in the oven. They bake for fifteen minutes at three-fifty. Julia likes them. Then again, Emmett does, too. He sells them at his gym, as health treats, packaging them under my restaurant's name.

I sip my coffee as I open the oven to check on the oatmeal bars. Alice slowly saunters to the island with her tiny, bare feet, dragging on the tile floor. Her hair stands up all over her head with strands sticking to her cheeks, and black smudge lines run down her face. She wears one of my T-shirts that hangs below her knees gives her a waif, homeless kind of look.

Alice motions with a hand towards the coffee with droopy, desperate eyes. I fill a cup and hand it to her. She bows to me and sits on a stool at the island with both hands circling the cup.

She hums, as she sips, "Hmmm, Edward, good cup of coffee. Thanks."

I nod. "Good." I sit across from her. "Jasper finally get to sleep?"

"Yeah, he was mumbling something about "Lil Jazz". I think he wants a son," she chirps.

"I'd say his Lil Jazz was overworked, Alice." I hold in my laughter. She's oblivious.

"You were out of it, last night, Edward." she mumbles through her cup.

"Been burning the candle at both ends with juggling restaurant and mule, Alice."

She plays with the handle of the cup and peeks up at me. "Edward, are you sure about this? I mean, you know I support you."

"It just feels right, Alice. No one can tell me what I need to know," I huff.

She awkwardly smiles and shrugs, "Well, you really haven't listened to us."

There is silence.

"What are you baking? It smells so good." She drools.

"Oatmeal bars for Julia. She loves these. A happy mule is a well-behaved mule." I preach.

Hey eyes are on the stove. "Can people eat them?" she asks.

"Yeah." I shrug.

"Fuck the mule. Give me some cookies," she giggles.

I make a few more batches.

Later in the afternoon, Jasper schleps into the kitchen as I pack my duffle bag on the island.

He sits on a stool and looks over everything. "What's all that?"

I continue to pack up. "Carolyn told me there were essential things I need to have on my rides."

He picks up the duct tape. "What do you do with this, shut your customers up?" He chuckles.

I grab it from his hands. "Don't be an idiot. It's the most important tool to have. Something breaks, duct tape seals it together."

"That's a lot of shit, Edward." He still looks at the Island top.

"She was nice enough to give me a list of the basic essentials." I shrug.

"Do you know what you're going to say, and where you are going to go?" he honestly asks.

"Yeah, I have a plan. Jazz, I had to take an exam on the history and culture of New Orleans to get my permit to drive. This isn't some average, little hobo job with anyone driving a carriage. There are permits, drug tests, background checks, and we have to produce a birth certificate and a state Id or license. There's a lot involved." I inform.

Jasper grunts. "I didn't know all that. Damn, Edward, so much shit to find a woman!"

I exhale a large breath of air. "Jazz, it's not about finding a 'woman'; it's finding that feeling."

"And I'll tell you again, my friend, you'll know it, when the right one comes along. No buggy and mule are going to ..." He slaps my head.

"flip on your light bulb."

I smack him back. "Don't do that!"

"Hey, maybe Alice and I will come take a ride with you," he raises his eyebrows.

"Yeah, that would be helpful. I can practice on your guys." I smile broadly.

"Sure. I want to see you in action." He hesitates. "But don't get too good at that romance stuff. She'll be on me before you can stop the carriage."

He blushes.

I blush. "Oh, I forgot to tell you she was going to Victoria's Secret, this afternoon. Yeah ... tonight, when you get home, she'll have a surprise for you."

Jasper literally turns green and whines, "Aw man, I feel a headache coming on."

I make a call to the stables around six o'clock for my mule handler to ready Julia in her gear and costume by seven-forty-five. I am a little nervous, yet excited. I'm glad the battery-operated foot heater is already in the carriage with warm blankets.

It's a cold night; already fifty-two degrees and windy. I wear a thick, dark gray sweater with thermal underwear and jeans, my bike boots and jacket with a thick knitted cap that matches my sweater. I didn't shave my beard and my hair is still too long. Yeah, I'm still stubborn about the looks thing.

My nerves calm, when I see Julia. She nudges close to me as I feed her a few oatmeal bars. I pet her gently down her nose and she leans close.

"Don't let me down tonight, girl," I whisper into her ear.

She looks great in her costume of red roses and tulle. Since it's cold, she wears a red cover on her back, and red, knitted leg warmers. "You let me know if it gets too cold for you, Girl. We'll head in." I pet her neck with long strokes and she snorts at me.

Once in the Square on Decatur Street, we settle in behind Carolyn, near St. Peter Street. But she is on her way out with a group of giggling, college girls. I'm on my own. I swallow hard with a very dry mouth.

My carriage is smaller than all the others, being that I want to focus on only couples for romantic tours. A few people pass by and remark on Julia's costume, but other than that, no business.

Another driver behind me, starts to walk towards me. He's shorter and heavier in stature, wearing a formal, woolen coat with a red scarf, dress pants, shiny patent leather shoes and a top hat under his gray hair.

He introduces himself with his hand out. We shake. "Hey, I'm Garrett."

"Edward." I smile.

"First time, huh?" Garrett nods.

"That obvious?" I moan, rubbing the back of my neck.

"Well, I haven't seen you around." He examines my carriage and Julia. "Nice carriage and mule. Yours?"

"Yeah, the stables didn't have any two-seat carriages, and I wanted to own my mule," I confess.

He chuckles. "Yeah, the more intimate the ride, you can charge more money," he says with a matter of fact attitude.

"I didn't want to over tax, Julia." I pet her head. "She's an old gal."

"Edward, they're bred for that. These mules are pretty strong." He pets her ears. "And intelligent; she looks like an even-tempered animal."

"Yeah, I've had her for a few months. We've bonded right away."

"She'll be your best friend. What did you name her?" Garrett asks.

"Julia Child."

Garrett raises his eyebrows and nods. "We have a chef?" He looks her in the eyes. "Bonsoir, Julia. Tellement agréable de faire votre connaissance." (Good evening, Julia, so nice to make your acquaintance.) She nudges him. He continues to look her in the eyes. "You are one great girl." He glances at me. "You found a good one, Edward."

"Thanks." I blow on my cold hands.

"You should get yourself a coffee at Cafe du Monde and warm those hands up."

I hesitate, "I don't want to leave Julia."

"Look, we all watch one another's back. I'll stand between both our carriages. Go get yourself something. Go on."

"Thanks. Can I get you anything?" I ask.

"Oh no, I'm fine, thanks," he cheerfully answers with a cackle.

I pat Julia on the ears." "I'll be right back, girl." Running across the street and down the sidewalk, I look back at her. She turns to watch me as Garrett stands near both of our carriages.

Entering the patio area of Cafe du Monde, I go into the small indoor area. I stand on the side, waiting to order, when a short stack, with deepest, chocolate eyes tugs on my arm. "Hey, grab a seat. I'll be happy to take your order." She smiles brightly with a slight giggle.

"I'm not staying," I blurt out.

"It's going to take a few minutes. Why don't you take a seat over there?" She gestures with her head. "What would you like?"

I shrug and take the seat, "Okay. Ah, I'll have a large, black coffee to go."

"No beignets?" she asks.

I grin. "Just a coffee to warm my hands."

"Okay." She goes to the counter and waits her turn at the coffee machine. I watch as the server in front of her laughs at something she says, both snort and laugh together. The other girl carries a tray filled with plated beignets drowning in powdered sugar out to the large patio area.

My girl stands in front of the huge, coffee machine and fills a large Styrofoam cup. She places on a lid and walks in my direction. Her smile blinds me as I focus on her lips. They are deep burgundy and heart-shaped. Her teeth are white and straight. She has a beautiful smile with happy eyes, under thick blonde bangs. Her hoodie sweater is a deep burgundy _(like her lips)_ that hugs her rounded curves under the white Cafe du Monde apron. She wears the bowtie in her hair, not around her neck, and the white, paper hat, sits back on her head with her long blonde hair in a ponytail.

I search for her name tag and see it on her right side, "Bella." She looks all of eighteen, but her walk is one of self-assurance and confidence of an experienced woman.

As she walks towards me with my coffee, she wraps a few napkins around the cup. "Here you go."

I reach up, take the coffee and hand her a five dollar bill. "Thanks, keep the change, Bella."

With a look of surprise, she argues, "No, that's too much." She searches in her apron for money and tries to hand me the change.

"Really, keep it. Thanks." I smile. "I've got to get back to my mule."

She smiles up at me. "You're a carriage driver?"

"Well, I haven't had a ride, yet. It's my first night," I confess.

"Mine, too." She looks around, "never peddled coffee before."

I shyly blurt out, "Well, you're a natural."

She curtsies. "I try to please."

I start to back away. "You did."

"See you around ...?"

"Edward." I fill in her blank.

She quietly repeats, "Edward". She nods her head.

I walk out the door, barely make it across the street and step into a pothole, dropping my coffee, spilling it over my hand. "Shit." I shake my hand off, pick up the empty cup and make it back to Julia.

Garrett hands me a towel. "Here, you go."

"Thanks, Garrett." I wipe my hand and give him back his towel.

"Why don't you go back and get another coffee? It's quiet here. I'll watch Julia, he offers.

I throw the cup into a garbage can. "No, it's alright."

Garrett grins. "Well, it appears as though another cup is on its way." He looks across the street.

I follow his eyes and see Bella walk in my direction, holding another large Styrofoam cup and a small, white bag.

With her hood up, the fur surrounds her face, and she beams. "Did you burn your hand?" She thrusts the cup into my left hand, stuffs the small bag under her arm and inspects my right. "Oh good, no redness, but just in case ..." She pulls a small tube from her pocket, juggling the white bag as looks up at me. "It's Neosporin," she explains and rubs a little over the tender area of my palm and knuckles. "I carry everything in my purse," she mumbles.

Her hands warm mine, as she smoothes my palm. I watch in utter fascination not able to speak with a tingling on my skin.

"You really should cover it, so it doesn't get dirty." She slowly removes her hands from mine. "I've got to get back. But here ..." She holds the small bag out to me." I frown. "It's beignets."

She begins to walk away, and I regain my power of speech and grab her wrist. She turns to me. "Thanks."

"No problem. Just watch that hand." As she begins to walk away, Julia brays or whines this pleading sound. Bella stops and reaches her hand to Julia and pets down her nose.

"Is this your mule?" she asks me.

"Yeah."

Her eyes never leave Julia's. "What's her name?" They stare at one another.

I answer quickly, "Julia." Then, I stammer, "She normally doesn't like females."

"I'm not any female, right, Julia?" Bella kisses her nose. "Well, Julia, keep a good eye on Edward." She looks up at me. "I've got to get back."

I lift the small bag in a wave. "And thanks again."

"No problem." She walks quickly across the street.

Garrett watches her as he speaks, "Sweet girl. How long have you known her?"

"We just met, as I was getting my coffee." I look back at her as she walks closer to the cafe.

"Yeah, and she went out of her way to bring you another and beignets?" He nods and pulls on his chin.

"Sorry I didn't introduce you." I apologize.

"No problem. You looked a bit dazzled." He smiles.

I watch her walk through the patio, then she turns and I wave. She sends me a small wave and disappears into the cafe. "Yeah, it was nice." I stretch my hand and look back across the street. I still feel the tingle.

Ooooo, who dazzled whom?

A/N: Thank you to my Beta, Sunflower Fran. I appreciate her time, her proper grammar and quick pen. Another great find by PAD!

To Robseve and Postapocalypticdepository (PAD), my pre-readers that give their unselfish time and creative input. Both of these ladies are inspirations and true friends.

Now, let me rec Postapocalypticdepository stories, since she so graciously rec'd mine.

Never Judge by the Cover: 9056924

Boys Will Be: 8868006

Rude Awakenings: 8876785

It's a New Dawn, It's a New Year: 8862243 (complete)

Also, let me rec this fic,again: Beyond the Wine Dark Sea by Smartmouth62 9416302 It's a period piece!

And thank you to all the readers, whether you review or not. I enjoy every comment and suggestion. Yes, NOLA is an exciting place to live. And to combine the old world with the new is a challenge, but the humor is quite a serious business. My objective is for all of you to smile, after each chapter.

Now, charities: Please, donate and receive endless stories for your reading pleasure. You give a little and get a lot. Help these charities reach their goals.

Fandoms for Autism (Fandoms4Autism) Donations due by July 27 2013

Fandom for Leukemia and Lymphoma Society (fandom4lls) Donations due by August 30 2013

Next up: BPOV


	6. Chapter 6

Under My Nose

Bella Swan needs a change of pace, a slower groove to enjoy the simple pleasures life has to offer her. She moves from the Big Apple to the Big Easy, from subways to streetcars, from nouveau chic to historically quaint, from a large Manhattan apartment near Park Avenue to a shotgun house with her eccentric aunt, in Mid City and off Canal Street. She's ready for love, commitment and that happily ever after, but does she have the patience to wait out her heart's desire? It's frustrating to be right, 'under his nose'.

A/N at end.

Chapter Six:

BPOV... January 1st

I walk away crossing the street, dodging a few cars and feeling the pull of his eyes upon me. Wow, time to get my groove on. My hips sway from side to side, not too obvious, but a subtle swing nonetheless; taking each step carefully and with confidence, one in front of the other and my head high, as I reach the sidewalk. I am not one of those women who flaunts her assets for male attention, but I want him to look. I want him to notice. Why, I'm not sure.

The sky is now clear, laden with celestial, twinkling lights and I search for my personal star. Bright as a beacon, my star is to one side, I close my eyes and secretly make a wish, throwing a kiss to the heavens. Aunt Sally says that consistency is the foundation for success. Say it, believe it and say it again. It will be yours.

Once I reach the cafe's entrance, I turn back to see him smiling at me, sending a small wave. Our eyes meet, and I giggle slightly within, wave my fingertips and skip lightly inside.

The rest of the night is busy. I work from table to table, serving piles of beignets coated with powdered sugar. Frosty, chilled fingers are not necessarily a bad thing, since I get to lick the sweetness clean from my frozen digits. In between, I picture a scruffy beard and hazel eyes that peek through deep-set lids.

There are people from all over the world, and I believe I did serve every country. Although my mindset continues to manifest a vision of strong, broad shoulders, muscular thighs on long legs and biker boots. I sigh at the scruffy beard and messy, scraggly hair. I really don't care what he looks like, it's his sweetness. He also feels so sad, and I have to heal the sick, the weak, the lonely, and the disturbed. Aunt Sally says I am a modern day Florence Nightingale. She's no different.

A little after eleven, the other carriage driver walks into the cafe, and up to me. He orders two large coffees to go.

I smile at him. "You look like the kind of man who likes a delicious banana bread. Nothing too sweet and you're not a beignet kind of guy."

He chuckles deeply. "No, I don't like all the sugar." He pats his stomach. We old guys have to watch the sweets." He smiles. "My wife made a good banana bread with walnuts, pecans and a hint of cinnamon." He takes a small sip of his coffee. "I liked when she would toast it and spread butter on between the slices."

"Sounds delicious, cream cheese would be good, too." I hum. "She doesn't bake anymore?"

He sadly bows his head. "I lost her in Katrina."

The wind sucks right out of me. I lightly touch his arm and whisper, "Oh, I am so sorry."

He nods. "Thank you." There is an awkward silence, and he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. He clears his throat. "I understand you and Edward just met tonight?"

My turn to nod. I recognize his hesitancy to talk more about his loss. "Yeah, as you know, he came in for coffee." I smile.

"Well, I was quite impressed with you and … Julia." He clears his throat, again. "I'm sorry, I'm Garrett." I begin to speak, and he interrupts. "Yes, and you are Bella." I extend my hand, he takes it, and turns to my knuckles kissing them lightly with a short bow. "My pleasure, Miss Bella."

I wink and curtsey. "Smooth, Mr. Garrett!" I squint my eyes. "Aw, so why are you impressed?" I question.

"Mules are picky animals; highly intelligent creatures. They are also possessive. Edward was telling me earlier about Julia's obsession over him. She doesn't like to share him. She's quite jealous of another female, yet, she welcomed you."

I laugh. "One stubborn mule to another, I guess."

He whispers in my ear, giving me a chill. "I'd say Julia has great taste in people." He smiles broadly. "Edward was quite taken back. His mule trainer is an older woman, but Julia pushes her off, when she gets too close to Edward. Julia seems to like you."

"We are talking about a mule?" I grunt.

He tips his hat. "Yes, but a very smart one." He salutes and walks out. I just watch the dust.

Being a pastry chef, I know what it's like to stand on my feet for hours. My feet feel swollen and numb from the constant pressure of my tightening shoes. Yet, I create sweets with vigor and passion. It is very different waitressing and carrying trays of pastries and drinks. My lower back aches and the soles of my feet throb. This possibly is a no brainer job, but the physical aspects are murderous. My upper arms are tight from lifting heavy trays, my neck is stiff from watching where I am going and avoiding any obstacles, and the cold is numbing every joint. There is no thought, there is no creativity. There is no pride in my presentation. It's just pure exhaustion from physical labor.

Once my shift is over, I roll up my apron, remove the stupid bow from my hair, place it in my purse, and sling it over my aching shoulder. I say goodnight to a few co-workers and make my way to the sidewalk with chattering teeth. Brrr.

An older gentleman plays 'One For My Baby', as I sing quietly along.

"_It's a quarter to three, there's no one in the place 'cept you and me. So set him up Joe I got a little story I think you oughtta know."_

A sharp, hollow, clopping sound hits the pavement beside me. I look up to see Edward in his carriage.

I stop singing, but the old guy plays in the background.

"Whoa, Julia girl," he commands pulling back gently on the reins. "Hi Bella."

I smile up at him. "Hey Edward."

"You heading towards your car?" he asks nodding his head back around towards the moonwalk.

I shiver, "no, the streetcar."

"Oh." He hesitates. "Well, I'm heading to the stables. Would you like a ride? I've got a floor heater and a blanket in the back."

"Wow, a heater. Don't tempt me, Edward. I'm easily swayed by my chattering lips," as I bat my eyelashes and look down.

_What the hell is this shy act?_

"I need to get Julia settled in, but I can drive you home." He nervously scratches the back of his head. "… If you like." He broadly grins. "I won't bite."

I give him my sass, "Now, that's too bad." I smile.

He laughs. "C'mon, get in." He climbs down from his driver's seat, walks around the carriage and takes my hand. "I've got you."

"Yeah, you do!" I think to myself.

We both gasp, as I feel a tingling go up my arm, and watch as Edward rubs his.

He guides me into the back of the carriage, turns on the little, space heater and wraps the blanket around my lap, tucking it under my legs and ass. Hmmm, I do believe he lingers a bit at my ass. All this time, I watch with great curiosity.

"Do you always tuck in your patrons?" I tease.

He brings his head to my level and stares into my eyes. I stare at his long eyelashes fanning over his cheeks, as he talks to my lips, "I didn't have any rides."

His warm, peppermint breath fans over my lips and we draw closer.

Shaking my head and breaking the spell, I lean back. "You didn't have _any_ business tonight?"

"Nope, not a one." He backs away, but still remains close. "I mean, people did stop to pet Julia and look at her costume; and they liked my carriage, but no one wanted a tour," he rattles off. "I watched everyone else get rides, but Julia and I sat it all out."

I blurt out, "It's probably the newness," I search my thoughts. "Edward, is there anything different about you from the others?"

"No, nothing I can see. I mean, I'm the only one doing romantic, couple tours." He gets into his seat. "I was cordial to overly extensive with my presentation."

"Were you nervous?" I ask.

""No, but I was rushing through." He sighs "The stable's not far from here."

I get the feeling he doesn't want to talk anymore about his lack of tours.

The old man's music starts to fade into the background.

"Let me text my aunt so she won't worry." I take my cell out of my front jacket pocket, tap in a message and return it to my pocket. "Okay, now I won't have a search party out for me." I giggle. "I'm staying with her for a few weeks until I find a place."

"Will it be a problem with her, if you get home a little later?" he asks.

"Oh no, my aunt is a free spirit, a lingering hippie. She's a trip." I smile. "She's big on independence, as long as I'm considerate."

Edward nods, "You two are close?"

"Yeah, she has always been there for me. Sort of undid a lot of my mother's damage." I snort. "A long story for another time."

"Okay. So, are you looking to rent or buy?" he inquires with a pensive look.

"I don't know. Possibly rent first, then see what area I want to live in permanently." I shrug to myself.

My cell dings. "It's Aunt Sally. She wants to know if you are a rapist, murderer or safely gay."

He bellow out a laugh, "I see where you get your humor from."

I taunt. "Well?"

"None of the above."

"Well, that's three positives."

He smirks, "Oh, I have more."

The wind howls, and I bundle up. "Edward, aren't you cold?"

As we stop at a red light, he turns to glance at me. "No, I'm good. You warm enough?"

"Toasty. The heater is a brilliant idea." I smile up at him.

"The woman who trained me gave me a list of essentials." He turns quickly. "So, is it comfortable?"

"Yes, very. I would imagine this tour as warmly intimate and cozy for a couple on a honeymoon or a romantic date." I smooth my hands over the seat and look carefully at the inner canopy. Edward turns to stare at me. "What?"

"That's what I said to my friend, Alice, when I was explaining the purpose of the tours." He stammers. "She's dating my best friend, Jasper."

I nod. "Um, so how does this all work? Do you just wait around or do you set up appointments?"

"I haven't gotten to that part, yet." He sighs. "As I said, this was my virgin night, and I sat around."

"I'm sorry." Without a filter, I blurt out, "And you didn't get your cherry popped!"

He bursts out laughing. "Yeah, still a virgin."

Again, without thinking, I offer, "You could do me?" I freeze. The light turns red, and he conveniently looks back at me, mouth and eyes wide open.

"I didn't mean you could DO me," I squeak. "I meant, you could practice on me. Well? Not practice on … " I wave my hands around. "me actually." I shrug. "Pretend I'm a couple and give me a quickie tour."

"I don't do quickies," he chuckles with a smirk.

I giggle, "Good to know!" And wiggle my eyebrows.

"You're a feisty one, Bella." He clears his throat. "This isn't the route I take for my tours. I've incorporated certain areas with historical figures, romancing their lives and their importance to the city."

"It all sounds so very magical."

"I hope it is, I have a lot riding on this." He sounds so anxious.

"I can imagine, since this is your livelihood."

"It's not the money ..." He trails off. "There's more to it."

I shake my head. "Oh, I get it." I mumble to myself, "I think?"

"I'll take you on a test run, one day, and you can critique my technique."

I quip, "Thwart your art?" I smile.

He smiles. "Really?"

I continue. "Flak your knack? Essay your way? Grill your skill?"

He puts his head down to raise his face in utter flames. He blushes. Aw, he blushes, a lot. "Are you done?"

Deviously I smile and mumble, "Pass your ass?"

He bursts out laughing hysterically. "Which one?"

I look at Julia, then at his behind. "Depends."

As we arrive in front of the stables, Edward reaches his hand to me and helps me out of the carriage. His mule handler, Hank, greets us by the entrance with a quick introduction, takes the reins and drives off with Julia.

Edward points to the parking area. "Let's get you home."

I look around. "Where did Hank take Julia?"

"Hank is one of the mule hands. He'll brush her down, after he takes the carriage to the carriage house."

"You don't brush her?" I ask.

"Yeah, I do, but I didn't want you to have to wait around." He admits.

"Edward, don't let me interfere with your routine. I don't want to put you out."

He shrugs and balls his fists into his pockets. "There's too much time involved. I'll come back, after I get you home."

"No, I insist, you're already here so just do what you need to do. Maybe, I can help. I could brush Julia down." I plead with him.

He smiles at me.

A yellow bulb hangs from overhead and bathes the stall in a warm glow. The twelve by twelve cubical gives ample enough space for Julia's comfort.

The walls are natural-light, blonde, planks of wood with galvanized steel grilles on the upper half, and a yoke insert for Julia to peek her head out. There is a swing-out water bucket and feed door on the side.

Julia stands in the center of the stall, as Edward brushes her neck and front legs while I brush the saddle and back area.

Edward's iPod sits in the corner with built in speakers on the shelf. We listen to R & B tunes. Even Julia sways her tail and bays.

I'm a little giddy from the late hour and from work. The iPod clicks on the Temptations, 'My Girl' and, well, I channel Aunt Sally. I step twice on one side and twice the other, placing my hands in a swing, upward motion. All inhibitions lost, I belt out with the song, "_I got sunshine on a cloudy day."_

Edward joins in with a rich, melodic voice, "_When it's cold outside, I've got the month of May."_

We both dance and sing together, "_I guess you say what can make me feel this way? … My girl, my girl, my girl. Talkin' about my girl. My girl."_

We both go into hysterics. The song continues, and I do an impersonation of The Temptations slick, dance moves. Edward follows along. Wooo, he's graceful for a tall guy. We both sing to Julia.

And if I could read her mind, I'm sure she believes we are a bit fahkucked (scrambled) in the keppy (head).

Then, he wraps an arm around my waist and holds onto one of my hands, and we rock the song with some swanky dance moves, still singing. Ah, but maybe, a bit off-key.

Exhaustion sets in from the twirling around Julia, and we stumble to the floor, giggling.

Edward smiles. "You know, you have a nice voice."

"Why, thank you," I melodically chirp. "You do, too." More giggling. "Well, if the carriage rides don't work out and I fumble in the cafe, maybe we can be the next Sonny and Cher?" I Got You Babe. Ya, ya, ya.

"No, no, no. Peaches and Herb!" Edward chuckles. "Shake Your Groove Thing."

""We don't have that much rhythm." I ponder. "Um, Captain and Tennille!" I interject. Oy, Muskrat Love?

And Edward shakes his head. "You're not tall enough." I cross my eyes. "Barbra Streisand and Neil Diamond." You don't bring me flowers or cake.

"Or Barry Gibb." I'm so 'Guilty'.

"Or Kris Kristofferson." A star wouldn't be born.

"Well, you got the beard." I scratch his chin.

"Lady Gaga and Lady Gaga?" he mumbles.

"I don't think I have the strength." I huff and blow hair out of my face.

"It's late. I should take you home, Bella." Edward stands and extends a hand to me. "How do you take to bikes?"

I shrug. "You're taking me home on a Schwinn?"

Whoo Hoo ... Wait until Bella sees Edward's Schwinn? BIKE! BIKE! Oh c'mon, people, where did your brains go?

A/N: Thank you to my Beta, Sunflower Fran. I appreciate her time, her proper grammar and quick pen. Another great find by PAD!

To Robseve and Postapocalypticdepository (PAD), my pre-readers that give their unselfish time and creative input. Both of these ladies are inspirations and true friends.

Now, let me rec Postapocalypticdepository stories, since she so graciously rec'd mine.

Never Judge by the Cover: 9056924

Boys Will Be: 8868006

Rude Awakenings: 8876785

It's a New Dawn, It's a New Year: 8862243 (complete)

And thank you to all the readers, whether you review or not. I enjoy every comment and suggestion. Yes, NOLA (New Orleans, LA) is an exciting place to live. And to combine the old world with the new is a challenge, but the humor is quite a serious business. My objective is for all of you to smile, after each chapter.

Now, charities: Please, donate and receive endless stories for your reading pleasure. You give a little and get a lot. Help these charities reach their goals.

Fandoms for Autism (Fandoms4Autism) Donations due by July 27 2013

Fandom for Leukemia and Lymphoma Society (fandom4lls) Donations due by August 30 2013

Next up: EPOV


	7. Chapter 7

Under My Nose

Edward Cullen sets a deadline of six months to find his true love, before he turns thirty. Leaving his successful restaurant to drive a mule-drawn carriage in the French Quarter of New Orleans, he searches for the meaning of true love, because he has yet to understand it. Will he know when he finds her or will she be right under his nose? Can bubbly, buxom Bella tantalize his taste buds with beignets and an abundant

booty?

Chapter Seven:

EPOV... January 1st

There is a serious look on her face set in stone, but I catch a glint in her chocolate eyes that sparkles mischief.

I mumble, "Schwinn?"

"Look, I have nothing against bikes, but you, mister, are doing the peddling. I'm pooped," she kids.

I tug at her hood. "C'mon, Ms. Bella, let me show you the bike I'll be peddling."

This look on her face is priceless. I don't know if it's horror or elation, but when she opens her mouth, I fucking freak at her comments.

"Oh my God, Edward, a Dyna Wide Glide? Are you serious?" She runs her hands over the seat and down the back fender. I watch as she caresses the leather with her diligent digits. "This is gorgeous, and the flames match your hair!" She giggles and I swallow hard. "This is amazing." She looks at me. "It's beautiful. You can peddle me on this anytime."

I catch my breath. "Well, how about now?" She smiles, and I want to know ... "How do you know about Harleys?" She really fucking knows about them.

"I had a friend growing up who tinkered with bikes. I used to hand him his wrenches." She rolls her eyes. "He tried to teach me to ride, but gave up."

I hesitate, but then I ask, "Why?"

"I kept falling off. He didn't want the responsibility for any broken bones."

"Did you break any?" I smirk, a little.

"Sure, broke both legs, both arms, dislocated my right shoulder and broke my left hand." I can't read her face, but I look over her body to see any effects.

She claps at me. "Gotcha!" And smiles broadly. "Just kidding. I took to riding a bike like a duck takes to water, when I had the right teacher"

"So, you do ride?" I rub my stomach for comfort. It feels like butterflies are tickling me.

"Oh, of course I do. Because my friend was such a doofus, I went to my dad," she nonchalantly admits.

"Really, your dad rides a Harley?" I can't believe this. And _she_ rides.

Bella rolls her eyes and giggles. "Yeah, he owns a Fat Bob and a chopper."

I have to ask, "What kind of chopper does he ride?"

"He has a replica of the Captain America ..."

I interrupt, "... from Easy Rider?"

"The one." She smiles.

I shake my head and rub the back of my neck. "So, what does your father do?"

"He's retired from the Air Force and spends most of his time keeping my mother in line." She laughs, but it fades. "Well, he tries to."

"Your mother sounds like fun," I sarcastically joke.

"Oh, a barrel of laughs." She rolls her eyes. Hmm, pools of chocolate. I like chocolate.

"Let me take you home." I bend and whisper into her ear. "Or would you like to drive?"

She looks up at me. "You'll let me?" She squeals.

"Yeah, I have a feeling you can handle it." Man, she can handle it.

Oh yeah, she has that look in her deep, mocha eyes with strong confidence. "Bring it on, Edward."

She hugs me.

Tight.

It feels great. She fits right under my chin. She might be a full package, but she's small.

She releases me and gives me a wicked smile. I get chills. Fuck, I'm a guy, and I have chills.

I watch her straddle my bike and I feel the sweat going down my back. All of a sudden, my throat is dry, and I can't swallow. I can't take my eyes off of her.

Once Bella revs the bike up, she yells. "Get on." I slide in behind her, drop my helmet over her head and wrap my arms around her. Leaning into her side, I take a long whiff. She smells so good. "Don't argue about the helmet, just wear it." She sighs, doesn't protest, and I tap the top.

Damn, if she doesn't maneuver my Glide through the streets with ease. We hit Canal Street, and she lets loose. There are hardly any cars on the road, but Bella commands our movement, like a stealth bomber.

I shout out, "So, your dad … did he see any wartime?"

"She shouts back, with her eyes on the road, "Yeah, he was a fighter pilot, quite the 'ace' in his day."

I shake my head. "Damn."

"He's a brilliant strategist; he can command an air fleet with a bat of an eye. He was one of the first pilots to go into Afghanistan, and he insisted on doing dual training in the US and Israel." She laughs. "A real Zionist, but he has always felt that the Israeli Air Force has the strongest aerial maneuvers. He juggled with the IDF, and I'm pretty sure he was playing around with the Haganah. All Top Secret, all hush-hush."

"So, your dad is a bad-ass," I snuggle closer.

"You could say that," she quips. "One night I heard him talking with my mother. He was telling her that the Mossad, that's the Israeli Intelligence Agency, _I nod my head _went to our CIA and FBI about security leaks in the US, stating that over 200 terrorists were living throughout the country. Their conversation was August of 2001. And one month later ..." She trails off.

She takes a sharp left turn, passes over the streetcar tracks, crosses the left lane, pulls into a small driveway and shuts off the bike.

As I stand, I extend my hand out to her. "Then, nothing gets passed your dad."

She takes my hands and hops off the bike. She stares me right in the eye, "Or me."

I barely whisper, "Good to know."

We walk up the stairs to the front door.

Bella smiles up at me, as she opens the screen door. "Thanks for the ride and for letting me drive."

"My pleasure …"

Before Bella can get the key out of her purse, the door swings open, and a very anxious, boldly smiling Aunt Sally, _I assume_ greets us. "So, I guess this is the rapist, murdering gay guy?"

Bella looks with horror at Aunt Sally, while I burst out laughing.

"Oh good, he has a sense of humor," she stares at me, assessing me with laser beams from head to toe. She lingers at my crotch. I swear she nods her head in acceptance and gives me a toothy grin. "Come on in, you'll catch your death out here, it's so freakin' cold. C'mon. C'mon." She scoots us in, late hour and all.

"Just go through to the dining room, Jujubee. I made some hot chocolate."

I follow Bella ... Jujubee? … But I have to say the living room is highly feminine and appealing to the color senses. The next room is ingenious, with a wall filled with shelving, and a library ladder, but as we go through a small hallway, man, I stop and stare at that tub.

Aunt Sally flips on the light. "Some tub, huh?"

I can tell it's her pride and joy.

"Wow and I thought my shower was something else," I mumble.

"You look like a guy who loves his jet sprays," Aunt Sally impersonates Mae West.

I laugh as Bella gives her a death stare.

"You have a nice laugh …" she trails off, as Bella interjects, "Edward."

Aunt Sally extends her hand to me. "Nice to meet you, Edward, I'm Aunt Sally, and you can call me that." She grips my hand strongly.

"Nice to meet you, too, Aunt Sally," I easily blurt out.

"Okay, enough of the John, let's go warm up." Aunt Sally leads the way as I follow behind Bella. Yes, I stare at her ass; it has a nice sway to it.

True to her word, Aunt Sally serves a creamy, hot chocolate with a strong dose of Kahlua, very strong dose. As I breathe in, I feel the fire through my teeth and nostrils. Hair of the dog ... more like the dragon. And she's added multi-colored, miniature marshmallows with a dollop of sweetened, whipped cream.

Each mug is unique in design, color and shape. Nothing matches, yet it does. There are plates of pastries, candies and chocolate truffles on the table. The bottle of Kahlua, a bottle of peppermint schnapps and Bailey's Irish Creme sit to one side.

Bella sits next to me as Aunt Sally sits across from us at the dining room table. My mother would have a field day with her colorful, home design. They certainly would get along.

"Edward, let me reassure you that I don't plan on giving you the inquisition. I know it's late. Let's just warm you up, before you get back on your bike." She smiles.

Bella nurses her drink, sits back and mumbles, "Thank you, God."

Aunt Sally rolls her eyes at Bella. "I heard that." She turns to me. "So, what were you guys doing until three o'clock this morning?" She smiles, and leans forward, placing her chin in her hand, and looks me dead in the eye.

I return the stare. "I had offered to take Bella home earlier, but she wouldn't hear of it. She came with me to the stables, so I could take care of my mule."

Aunt Sally nods her head in understanding. "I see. You're a carriage driver?"

I snort, crossing my arms over my chest. "I'm trying to be."

Bella interjects, "Last night was his first time, Aunt Sally."

Aunt Sally widely raises her eyes and shifts them back and forth. "So you both started new jobs, last night." She looks at Bella and back at me with a sly smile. "A virginal evening?"

Bella gives her the stink eye. "Must you?"

Aunt Sally pretends innocence, "What?" A slight smile parts her lips with her arms flailing. "I was only say …"

"I know what you were saying or trying to!" Bella accuses.

She pleads her case to me. "See? I didn't say anything … " She looks at Bella. " … and you are implying I meant something else, JujuBee." She feigns pain. "You wound me." A hand goes over her heart. "That really hurts my feelings."

"Oh, can it, Meryl Streep." Bella rolls her eyes and giggles. Hmm, she does that a lot. "Drama queen."

"So, you helped with the ass?" Aunt Sally playfully asks Bella, tapping her fingers lightly on the table.

"If you must know, I helped brush her." Bella smiles, "She's a really sweet animal."

"Which is surprising, since she is very leery of women," I blurt out.

Aunt Sally frowns and inquires, "You have a female, hating donkey?"

"Yeah. No." I shake my head. "She really took to Bella."

"I'm not surprised, Bella has always attracted animals. Squirrels love her." Bella shoots another death stare at her. "What? What did I say that was so wrong? Animals feel safe with you." She turns to me. "Honestly, Edward, since she was a small child, she was a miniature Dr. Doolittle."

Bella asks, "Don't you have a boyfriend waiting for you, Aunt Sally?"

"He's out of town. Richard had a shoot in Dallas for something or other, last minute for a friend. I don't recall." She looks at me and touches my shoulder. "Maybe you've heard of him, Edward. Richard Dykes-Johnson, the photographer."

"Yes, I have. I have wanted him to do some shots for me. I'm still waiting for a call back," I tell her.

"When he gets back, I'll talk to him for you," she offers. "Is this for you and your mule?"

"No, it's a personal job. But, hey, that would be great, thank you." I

look at Bella, as she stares with intense daggers at Aunt Sally. "What's wrong?"

Bella clears her throat, places her cup on the table and leans on her elbows. "Nothing, just watching Aunt Sally be Aunt Sally."

She smiles. "Bella thinks I'm up to something. I just want to know about you." She frowns at Bella. "I'm not Renee."

Bella sighs and barely whispers, "I'm sorry, Aunt Sally, I know you're not."

Aunt Sally pats Bella hands and looks at me. "So tell me all about you and your family, Edward. Anything you'd like to share?" She sits back, crosses her arms over her chest and smiles at me.

I give her the rundown of my brother and parents. I don't mention the restaurant. I don't want them to know I own one. It's not that I don't trust Bella, because for some reason, I do, but I'm not ready to reveal my true profession.

Aunt Sally extends the plate of pastries towards me, and I take this chocolate covered mound and sink my teeth into it. This taste of fucking heaven spreads throughout my mouth. I look up at Aunt Sally. "Where did you get this?"

She smiles broadly and nods at Bella. She grins at me like that cat who ate the canary. "Best thing you ever tasted?"

"I've never tasted anything like it." I mumble through my chewing.

She proudly boasts, "It's one of Bella's …" Bella pokes her. "What?"

"Don't brag, it's unbecoming." Bella clears her throat, "Sorry, Edward, she thinks the sun sets and rises with me."

I smile at her and grab another pastry. "I might actually agree, if you bake like this."

Bella blushes and nervously explains, "I like to dabble with recipes."

Aunt Sally shoots her a dirty glance and stares her in the eyes. "You're being too modest, JujuBee." She continues, looking at me, "Edward, Bella is an amazing baker. Her grandmother was a pastry chef for Dukes and Duchesses."

Okay, that's impressive.

Bella snaps, "She was not. You're exaggerating, Aunt Sally." She turns to me. "She baked for the family. As prissy as they all were, they weren't royalty." She giggles. "Just royal pains in the asses!"

"And she baked things like this?" I ask Bella.

"Well, I put a spin on a lot of her recipes, updating the ingredients." Bella shrugs. I can see a quick side-glance to Aunt Sally.

"Yes, and my mother was quite ahead of her time. She liked the salty, yet sweet blend for a dessert, maple syrup with bacon or chocolate covered potato chips. To this day, I believe she was the one who invented chocolate covered Matzo, but someone else ran off with the idea." She nods with her arms flailing in the air.

Bella giggles. It's a pleasant sound.

"Do you mind telling me what's in here?" I actually beg. It's sweet, but there's a bitter taste that really adds to the flavor."

Bella smiles, "A touch of paprika, just a hint."

I go for another. "May I?"

Aunt Sally offers the plate to me. "Go ahead. Eat. Take them all." She urges me on and winks at me. "It will burn the alcohol in your system."

She leans over and rubs my arm. "You'll be safe to drive home."

I don't hesitate. The chocolate mounds are addictively detectable. I want these for my restaurant. I do try another pastry, and, once again, the honey crusted cookie is mouthwatering; ambrosia to the senses. I chew staring at Bella. "This melts in my mouth."

She smiles. "Thank you. I'm glad you like it."

Aunt Sally urges me on again. "Try the cherry one. It has macadamia nuts in it, the soft with the crunchy, and the jam one is to die for. It has marshmallow cream in the middle, and the lemon coconut, and the chocolate ganache beignet. She made that one for me."

One by one, I sample all of the pastries. One is better than the other. I stupidly blurt out, "Well, if the way to a man's heart is through the stomach, I'll marry you tomorrow, Bella!"

Silence.

Aunt Sally giggles. "Well, Edward, you won't starve. She's a tasty treat."

Bella blushes from head to toe. "You know, I am right here, you two."

"What, you're opposed to marriage?" Aunt Sally shouts.

I stare at her in wonderment of her answer.

"I'm done with this conversation," she blinks.

I start to get up. "I should go."

Bella nods. "I'll walk you to the door." She grimaces at Aunt Sally. "Alone."

She runs to the kitchen. "Let me put these pastries in a Ziploc for you to take home."

Bella and I stand in silence.

Aunt Sally re-enters the dining room, holding a plastic shopping bag. "Here, you go." She hands it to me.

"Thank you, Aunt Sally. It was a pleasure meeting you," I politely utter.

"Please, come back anytime, Edward," she says warmly.

Bella starts to walk out of the room, and I follow her. "I'm sorry she was so forward with you, Edward. I don't know what got into her," Bella confesses.

We pass the bathroom, and I take one last look at the tub.

"No, no, she was quite nice." I clear my throat. "I'm sorry for being so blunt, back there. My comment about marriage was out of line. I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"That's fine," she barely whispers.

We stand at the front door.

"Well, thank you for bringing me home, Edward."

"No problem, Bella. Thank you for helping with Julia."

"I like her." She looks up at me.

"She likes you." I stare at her lips.

"Will I see you tomorrow night?" she asks.

"Yeah, I'll get a coffee, if you'll fix it for me." I shyly look up at her eyes.

She smiles with this beautiful expression on her face, "Sure." She opens the door.

I start to walk out. "Ah, hey, maybe you can take a practice run with me, tomorrow in the afternoon? Help me out?"

Man, what a smile. "Okay." She beams

"Alright, I'll call you?" I pull my phone from my pocket and hand it to her. She punches in her number. "Thanks."

"Drive home carefully," she warns.

I skip down the steps and get on my bike. "Night, Bella."

"Night, Edward."

I hang the plastic bag on the right handlebar, start my bike, back up and head to Canal Street.

In my rearview, I see Bella watching. She gives me a small wave. I turn and wave back, then take a right onto Canal.

Ooooo, smitten by the sweet... or which sweet?

A/N: Thank you to my Beta, Sunflower Fran. I appreciate her time, her proper grammar and quick pen. Another great find by PAD!

To Robseve and Postapocalypticdepository (PAD), my pre-readers that give their unselfish time and creative input. Both of these ladies are inspirations and true friends.

Now, let me rec Postapocalypticdepository stories, since she so graciously rec'd mine.

Never Judge by the Cover: 9056924

Boys Will Be: 8868006

Rude Awakenings: 8876785

It's a New Dawn, It's a New Year: 8862243 (complete)

And thank you to all the readers, whether you review or not. I enjoy every comment and suggestion. Yes, NOLA (New Orleans, LA) is an exciting place to live. And to combine the old world with the new is a challenge, but the humor is quite a serious business. My objective is for all of you to smile, after each chapter.

Now, charities: Please, donate and receive endless stories for your reading pleasure. You give a little and get a lot. Help these charities reach their goals.

Fandom for Leukemia and Lymphoma Society (fandom4lls) Donations due by August 30 2013

Next up: BPOV


	8. Chapter 8

Under My Nose

Bella Swan needs a change in pace, a slower groove to enjoy the simple pleasures life has to offer her. She moves from the Big Apple to the Big Easy, from subways to streetcars, from nouveau chic to historically quaint, from a large Manhattan apartment near Park Avenue to a shotgun house with her eccentric aunt, in Mid City and off Canal Street. She's ready for love, commitment and that happily ever after, but does she have the patience to wait out her heart's desire? It's frustrating to be right, "under his nose".

Chapter Eight:

BPOV (première partie) (part one) … early morning January 2

My teeth chatter, as I stand on the edge of the front porch and watch Edward turn the corner. I can still hear the roar of his bike traveling down Canal Street.

A gust of chilling wind spawns me to head inside, but I look one more time at the end of the street from the doorway.

"Don't you think you should close the door?" Aunt Sally says as she sneaks up behind me.

I jump. "Jesus, you scared the crap out of me." I catch my breath. "I'm going to put a bell around your neck!"

"Nonsense, I wasn't quiet, you were lost in thought. Would you like to sit and talk?" She smiles gently, sits on one of the sofas and pats beside her.

I sit cross-legged and face her. "So what's on your mind, my darling aunt?" I snip.

She snips back, "Oh, don't get so snippy with me. You know perfectly well what I want to talk about!"

"He's nice," I stare at my hands in my lap.

"JujuBee, who are you trying to kid, me or you?" I still don't look up. "There's fire between the two of you."

"Yeah, I think so, too." I clear my throat. "But I'm not sure if I'm ready for this."

"Oh, my sweet girl, you don't have a choice. You came all _this _way for him to find you." I look up with a sour face. "Don't look at me that way, and stop trying to deny it."

"I haven't said anything. I'm not denying it, I'm just saying not ready." I take a huge breath and blow the air out slowly.

"JujuBee." She grabs my chin and stares me in the eyes. "Smitten is written over both of your faces. All the signs are there."

"Aunt Sallyyy?" I draw out.

"Listen to me. Have I ever steered you wrong?" I shake my head. "Good, then you have to do as I tell you to do."

"I won't play any girlie games!" I admittedly protest.

"There are no actually games, Honey, it's more like a …" She waves her hand around. "... Dance. You move, then he moves. Eventually, you will both move together." Her eyes get wide. "And did you see the size of his feet and hands?"

"I don't see the importance of the size of the feet and hands," I mutter.

"Oh, Ye have much to learn, little grasshopper. When they are that large …" she fades out, humming, shaking her head up and down with wide eyes.

I look at her in disgust with my hands flailing out. "And what can you do with a monster …?" I point towards my lady bits.

Aunt Sally is hysterical with laughter. "You tame the snake or in his case, anaconda."

I am beet red. "Are you purposely trying to make me blush?"

"No!" She sits up straight. "I'm trying to prepare you. I know you have had relationships, but this is going to be different." She palms my face. "Oh, JujuBee, I am so excited for you to be in love."

"Ah, I think you are taking his a little too far, Ms Streep." I hiss.

She smiles. "I think you doth protest too much, Miss JujuBee. You both were sparking." She touches my hair. "Yup, see … little singed!"

I pull her hands off, giggling. "Stahhhhhhhp!"

"Okay, okay, I'll stop for now." She messes with my hair. "Sorry, another ash."

I know I didn't see my bed, until well after 4 am, but promptly at ten, my cell rings.

Startled, I sit up in bed and knock everything off the nightstand, trying to retrieve my cell in midair. As I juggle from hand to hand, I fall to the floor with a humph. Ah, but my cell is intact.

"Ouch, shit." I grumble to myself, "This better be good."

I sit on the floor, cell in my hand, legs outstretched and I breathlessly speak, "Hello?"

"Bella? Hey, it's Edward." He's up and happy.

"Hey, yourself. What's up?" I try to be 'up'!

"Well, ah, I did mention that I'd take you on a practice tour. You still up for it ... today?" Oh man, he's nervous. Or do I want him to be nervous? God, Aunt Sally, this makes me crazy.

He questions, "Bella, you there?"

Oh crap. "Yeah, Edward, I'm here."

"Did I wake you?" He says regretfully.

I don't really lie or tell the truth, but I giggle. "Actually, I'm sitting on the floor from falling out of bed!"

"So, you're falling for me?" He gasps. "Fuck! I didn't ... It was a jo ..."

I interrupt him, giggling, "It's okay, Edward. You and my aunt channel one another." I yawn and scratch my head. "So, you still want to take me on a tour?"

"Yeah, if you're up for it?"

"Once I get off my ass, I can get ready. What time should I meet you?" I ask, as I gather myself up off of the floor, rubbing my bruised cheek.

"I can come pick you up," he offers.

"Naw, I don't want you to go out of your way, and besides, you have to ready Julia."

"All right, but I'll take you home," he insists.

"Okay." I snort. "So, what time?"

"Can you give me a few hours and meet me at noon at the stables?"

"Sounds good." I smile.

Aunt Sally carries a large picnic basket from her bedroom. "You can use this," she hands it out to me, and I take it with a puzzled look on my face. "JujuBee, you are going out with Edward, yes?"

I turn beet red from face to toes. "Yes, Ms. Eavesdropping Sneak.!"

"Hey, I was in my room, and I could hear you." she grouses. "So, okay then, Plan A in motion."

"No girlie hocus pocus," I plead.

She disregards me and continues to speak from inside her head. "Well, this is actually plan A and a half. You already got him eating your desserts. Now, you want to make him a scrumptious lunch with a delightful wine and more treats." She smiles broadly. "One part of the body is yours. Hello stomach." She giggles. "Then, the … "

I stare at her in utter shock. "I am not going there!"

"Get your mind out of the gutter, JujuBee. I was talking brain, funny bone, and then his … sexy bone."

"You really are something else." I sarcastically flatter with my arms across my chest.

"Don't be so defensive, I'm on your side." She starts to walk towards the kitchen. "How about your killer chicken salad with French bread? How long does it take you to whip up those chocolate thingies? He really liked them."

"Excuse me, but I have less than two hours to be there, let alone get ready." I gradually raise my voice.

"Then, I suggest you get a move on." She smiles.

I call Edward to apologize for running late. Between showering, doing my hair and makeup, I prepare something different than my killer chicken salad. Something tells me that comfort food is the way to go. I also bake a puff pastry dough, filled with a vanilla buttercream and raspberry sauce. Ah, Tupperware is an amazing invention.

It's almost one and Aunt Sally spares me the streetcar, and drives me to the stables. With a kiss on the cheek and a slight pinch on my ass, she tells me to break a leg.

I dress warmly in a soft, pink, angora sweater with matching stocking hat, black jeans, knee-high, wedgie, black boots, and a black, knee-length, sweater coat. I am toasty warm.

I enter the stable to find Edward singing along with Marvin and Tammi's _Ain't No Mountain High Enough_. He bends over to straighten out Julia's leg warmers, and I stand to the side, as he serenades Julia with great passion. I giggle quietly to myself.

He sings softly, " _Remember the day _

_I set you free. _

_I told you_

_You could always count on me_

_From that day on I made a vow_

_I'll be there when you want me_

_Some way, some how."_

He belts out, "_Cause baby,_

_There ain't no mountain high enough_

_Ain't no valley low enough_

_Ain't no river wide enough_

_To keep me from getting to you."_

I contemplate a duet, but wipe that thought from my head. Instead, I giggle, and Edward turns quickly and blushes.

He walks over to the Ipod and shuts off the music. His head is down. "You caught me."

"You've been holding back, Edward. I see you were saving all your passion for Julia," I tease.

He shyly looks at me, running a hand down his neck. "She doesn't criticize."

I huff, "Why would she … every girl likes to be serenaded."

He smiles, looking at the basket. "So what do you have there?"

I give him a shy smile. "Lunch?"

Within seconds, he stands in front of me, picking up the lid of the basket.

"What did you bring?" Oh, I get a killer smile. Green beacons. Green Beacons. All hands on deck. Whoo Hoo.

I exhale pursing my lips. "I made us grilled, gruyere cheese with sweet glazed onions on buttered, pan-fried, rye bread, homemade tomato soup and coleslaw."

"You didn't have to bring anything," he barely whispers. His expression is one of total surprise. "I can't believe you made all of this so quickly."

She giggles, "Hey, I'm a lightning bolt and you are giving me a tour. You need to keep your strength up." I look around. "Is it alright to eat here with Julia?"

"Sure, if you don't mind." He grabs a blanket and covers the floor, while I place the basket on the blanket.

I take a large carrot out and show Edward. "May I give this to her?"

He nods, "Sure."

I extend the carrot out to Julia; she brays and starts to nibble. "You like that." I pet her between her ears. "Well, I brought you a bunch for your eating pleasure."

Edward quips, "I'd like some of that pleasure." He gasps. "Sorry, there's something about your … food that excites me."

Silence.

I truly don't know how to respond to that. I just turn my head to the side and come back. "Ah, I brought a six pack, too. That's okay?"

We both sit on the blanket cross-legged, as I take the containers out of the basket.

Edward eyes every container, but extends his hand when I pull out the six pack. "May I?"

I hand him the ice cold bottles, and he raises his eyebrows. "Root Beer?"

"You're driving, besides, it refreshing with what I made." I swallow hard.

He nods his head in agreement. "I like Root Beer."

Edward watches as I place two sandwiches in a plate for him with a medium container of coleslaw. I unscrew the thermos, pour soup into a bowl and hand it to him with silverware. He says 'thank you'. I serve myself, and I wait anxiously for him to take a bite of the sandwich.

He bites into the crusty, rye bread, raises his eyebrows and looks at me. Nodding his head and swallowing, he clears his throat. "This is really good."

I smile. "Thank you."

He then tries the soup. His manners are impeccable, dipping the spoon into the soup, and carefully placing it into his mouth without a drop spilled or slirp heard. He takes the napkin and wipes his mouth. "Bella, this is really extremely tasty. I love the hint of basil."

I smile again. "Thanks."

When Edward samples the coleslaw, he hums. No, he groans in ecstasy. It's a little unnerving and quite a turn on. "What is in this?"

He stares at me, quickly shoveling another spoonful into his mouth.

"The usually; cabbage, carrots, celery, green pepper, mayo, salt, sugar and Balsamic vinegar. I do add onions, but since we were eating glazed with the sandwich, I didn't want to overpower … the taste." He's just stares at me. "What?"

"You sound like a pro." He smiles. His eyes crinkle up with such excitement.

I fidget. "No, just like to cook." Oy, forgive me. I can't tell him yet.

We finish with lunch, and he stares at the basket with a sly, childlike smile. "No dessert?"

I huff, "Okay." I pull out the last two containers, and open both. Placing the vanilla, butter cream filled pastry on a plate; I drizzle the raspberry sauce over it, and hand it to Edward with a fork. As if in slow motions, he digs his fork into the flaky pastry, takes a bite, licks his beautifully, full lips and deeply moans, 'Bella'.

_Dear God, right to my loins._

I catch my breath. "I gather you like it?" _Is it hot in here?_

"I didn't expect all of this." He takes the last bite of the pastry, chews it quickly and swallows. I stare at his Adam's apple. "And I was rushing around this morning, and didn't get a chance to eat."

I look away, stand and walk around, until I am next to Julia. She nudges close to me. "Well, good, I'm glad I brought it. There's another sandwich and soup left. You can have them for later. Also, more carrots for Julia." I pet her.

"I'd love the recipe for your coleslaw, if you are willing to share it," he inquires with a small smile.

"I think I can part with it." I kid.

"Okay." He claps his hands. "Are you ready for the tour?"

I quickly respond, "Yeah, show me how romantic you can be."

_Oops. _

We both stand still in shock as I blush down to my toes. Good thing he can't see them. "I'm sorry … I have no idea where that came from."

He laughs. "You make me feel a lot better, Bella."

I frown. "Why?"

"Ah, my blunder about pleasure, earlier?" he chuckles, and wipes a hand through his hair. "We both seem to have no fucking control."

"Yeah, and no filter." I shrug and roll my eyes. "I'll make a deal with you."

Edward leans up against the wall, crosses his arms over his chest and places one foot over the other. "Okay."

"Every time we get foot in mouth, we laugh it off." He smiles, and I swallow hard. "It's not as though we are, ah, um, trying to impress one another." I quickly blurt out. "We're friends." I extend my hand out to him. "Deal?"

He stands up straight, wipes his hands over his thighs, grabs my hand and shakes it. "Deal."

It's like this electrical vibration goes up my arm to the butterflies in my stomach, and my legs are suddenly spaghetti. I never get this way. What the hell is this guy doing to me? It's only a handshake for Christ Sake. And I watch him rub his arm, too. He feels it, too, whatever this is.

I take a deep breath, give him my biggest smile. "Okay, Romeo, time for 'la tournée de romance' et prenez mon cœur." (The Tour of Romance and take my heart.)

Edward turns his head in surprise and answers, "Peut-être que je le ferai." ( Maybe, I will.)

I place a hand over my mouth and softly mumble. "You speak French."

He smiles. "Mais bien sûr. Et vous le faites, trop." (But of course. And you do, too.)

I boldly laugh, and he does, too. We stare at one another. I nod my head, and he does, too, our eyes lock. You could hear a pin drop.

I break the silence. "Do you speak Italian?"

He quickly says, "No."

I laugh. "Buono." (Good)

He ponders. "Do you speak Spanish?"

I say, "No."

He smiles and laughs. "Bueno." (Good)

I start to put the containers back into the basket, as Edward folds the blanket and puts it away.

He takes out all of Julia's riding gear, and I pretend to be busy with the basket.

Okay, we like each other. That is quite evident in our behavior towards one another, but the question is; will he do anything about it? And I know me; I will never make a first move. A guy has to come for me and show me he truly wants to know me and wants to commit. That's the process. That's the only way there can be a relationship. I don't chase. Aunt Sally says it's not ladylike. My one old-fashion beliefs that sticks, 'the guy has to be the man'.

Edward calls for his mule handler, Hank, and tells me he will be right back. He exits, and I talk to Julia.

I pet her nose to her ears. "So, what do you think, Julia? Does he like me?" The mule nudges me. "Yeah, I think so, too. But the issue is ... The important issue is … will he act on this?"

She shoves me. Hard. "Hey, he has to make the first move."

Julia brays loudly. I just stare at her, as Edward walks back into the stall.

"Okay, Hank is outside. We are going to saddle Julia up, and we can get this tour started." He smiles.

"I'm ready to see the sights."

Edward winks, "I'm ready to show you."

I wiggle my eyebrows. "I bet you are."

"All the more to show you, little girl," he says as he mimics the wicked witch.

We both laugh.

Well, aren't they flirtatious? Let's see what happens on the tour. Maybe, some daydreaming?

A/N: Thank you to my Beta, Sunflower Fran. I appreciate her time, her proper grammar and quick pen. Another great find by PAD!

To Robseve and Postapocalypticdepository (PAD), my pre-readers that give their unselfish time and creative input. Both of these ladies are inspirations and true friends.

Now, let me rec Postapocalypticdepository stories, since she so graciously rec'd mine.

Never Judge by the Cover: 9056924

Boys Will Be: 8868006

Rude Awakenings: 8876785

It's a New Dawn, It's a New Year: 8862243 (complete)

And thank you to all the readers, whether you review or not. I enjoy every comment and suggestion. Yes, NOLA (New Orleans, LA) is an exciting place to live. And to combine the old world with the new is a challenge, but the humor is quite a serious business. My objective is for all of you to smile, after each chapter.

Now, charities: Please, donate and receive endless stories for your reading pleasure. You give a little and get a lot. Help these charities reach their goals.

Fandoms for Autism (Fandoms4Autism) Donations due by July 27 2013

Fandom for Leukemia and Lymphoma Society (fandom4lls) Donations due by August 30 2013

Next up: BPOV (deuxième partie) part two


	9. Chapter 9

Under My Nose

Bella Swan needs a change in pace, a slower groove to enjoy the simple pleasures life has to offer her. She moves from the Big Apple to the Big Easy, from subways to streetcars, from nouveau chic to historically

quaint, from a large Manhattan apartment near Park Avenue to a shotgun house with her eccentric aunt, in Mid City and off Canal Street. She's ready for love, commitment and that happily ever after, but does she have the patience to wait out her heart's desire? It's frustrating to be right, "under his nose".

Chapter Nine:

BPOV: (part two) afternoon ...January 2

It's a bright, sunny day with the temperature of fifty-eight, breezy degrees, not a cloud in the blue sky or a hint of humidity. I would comment on the fresh, clean air, but we are at the stables and fresh and clean would be the last two words I would use to describe the odors coming from the stalls.

Julia wears a headdress of red, white and blue feathers, fanning a half-moon over her head, with large, patriotic rhinestone gems on the leather straps that match her embroidered, firecracker, leg-warmers. She looks like a New Year celebration or a Las Vegas showgirl. Well, she does have long, shapely legs!

I watch Edward help Hank hook Julia up to the carriage. Once they finish strapping this and hooking that, Edward turns to me with a huge smile. "You ready?" He extends his hand out to me.

I walk to him as he grabs my hand, and cups my elbow to help me into the backseat. Hmmm, did fingertips brush my backseat?

"Are you warm enough?" he says with a concerned look and a blanket in his hands.

"Oh, I'm fine, thank you." I look at the blanket. "It's not that cold, Edward."

"I'll lay it on the seat, should you get cold." He places it next to me and looks up.

I look him dead in the eyes. "Were you looking to tuck me in again?" I bat my eyelashes like the flirt I am.

With a huge smile, he says, "Peut-être que j'étais." (Maybe I was.)

I arch my eyebrow and cross my arms over my chest. "Ah, i francesi." (Ah, the French). I hum, "Vous êtes un grand flirt cet après-midi, Monsieur Cullen." (You are a big flirt, this afternoon, Mr. Cullen.) Que dois-je faire avec vous? (What am I going to do with you?)

"Que voulez-vous faire?" (What do you want to do?) He is very breathy.

And with a smart-ass grin, I say … into his eyes … very close … very slow, "To take a … tour!" I lightly bite my teeth over my lip.

He smiles, yet I see a flicker of disappointment, drops his head, and slowly looks up at me. "Okay." Ah, he flashed his million dollar smile under his facial fur.

He hops up into the front driver's seat, takes the reigns and gently says, 'C'mon, girl' to Julia not me.

Julia moves forward, as Edward turns quickly to tell me we are on the way to the Quarter. He wants to start from the beginning and take me to every stopping point on the tour.

We make our way up one street and down another and somehow we are among the other carriages.

We pass Garrett and tell him we are off on a test tour. He tells us to have fun, and he'll see us later. I want to bake him a banana bread and slice it with butter. Also, slice it with cream cheese. We'll try it together.

Jimmie jogs quickly from Cafe du Monde crossing the street, holding a large coffee and a bag of beignets, sees me and shouts, "Bella, doing some sight-seeing?"

I giggle at him, "I'm doing a touristy thing!"

He smiles brightly, "Come by and see me later."

"Will do," I answer and send him a wave.

Edward asks who he is, and I tell him an artist from around the corner; no more, no less.

The wind catches my hair all over my face, and I roll my stocking hat on my head. Edward gruffly tells me to put on the blanket, and I have to ask, "What is it with you and this blanket?"

He acts all pissy. "It's windy."

"Did I do something wrong to upset you?" I sit forward.

I get a quick, 'no'. He gives this shake of his head and gruffly moans, "I don't like that guy. These artists can't be trusted."

I openly sigh. "Okay."

He lets out another long moan. "Bella, I don't know what the fuck I'm doing."

I reach for his arm and give him a squeeze. "Don't be nervous, just do what you planned, Edward." I give him a reassuring smile. "You'll be fine." But I get the feeling he was upset about something else.

He tells me how he wants to introduce the couples to New Orleans and the French Quarter and make them feel comfortable. It's all about the city; that the French Quarter is the heart and soul of the French to the Spaniards. He explains the historical architecture from the colors of the buildings to the wrought iron balconies. And what truly captures my interest is his portrayal of the pirate Jean Lafitte and his brother, Pierre. I listen and hang onto every, single word.

"And no one could call him a pirate and live. A privateer that owned the waters of the Gulf of Mexico," Edward tells his tale. "He commanded a fleet of ships larger that the US Navy. There were times he was a ruthless and murderous pirate, and other times he was a civilized, businessman conducting trade and commerce. He was loved, hated and feared. He was a legend in his day, for absconding simple men and turning them into smugglers, thieves and businessmen. He owned the waters of the Gulf and Caribbean coast. But his thievery wasn't all in selfish vain. He traveled in parts of the US that the government simply forgot about or refused to give aid to. He clothed and fed thousands, redeeming his character.

"So, he was an altruistic rogue?" I ask.

"Yeah, and he was a charmer. Women were very drawn to his good looks and height," he says very easily. "He was a wealthy man and dressed to fashion."

Edward turns to look at me, and I can see that underneath his wayward hair and casual clothing _he _could be quite the stunner, quite the pirate, Jean Lafitte. I shake my head and pay attention.

"His brother, Pierre, was into slave trading. With all the cheap help, they ruled New Orleans and their many women."

"Ah, so you are basing this tour on the Lafitte brothers?" I question.

"Part of it. I also want to cover the intrigue of the voodoo priestess, Marie Laveau, too. This city has many layers, Bella."

"I'm beginning to see that. Sorry to interrupt," I apologize.

"No, I want to encourage questions. I don't want to sound like a history book. The reactions of these couples are important to me," he says so very softly, as if he is lost in thought.

"Please, go on with your romantic and magical tale," I urge him on.

"Well, Jean was sought after by friends and enemies. Andrew Jackson asked for his help in securing the city, during the Battle of New Orleans.

While the Governor had a $500 reward over Lafitte's head for anyone to bring him in, Lafitte turned it around and kiddingly placed a $5000 reward for anyone willing to bring the Governor in."

I laugh, "Mr. Lafitte was a character with a sense of humor."

"And a man who appreciated the finer things in life." He stops the carriage in front of a small tavern at the corner of Bourbon and St Philip Street. "This was Jean Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop. A place he sat with his men to plan his raids and travels."

Edward's voice fades into the background, as I take in the small building with shutters for doors and windows with stucco walls and brick. I can hear him say that it's the oldest building in the United States that is used as a bar and candles are it's source of lighting. I close my eyes and hear the shouting of Lafitte's anger and see a scene of an argument.

"_I do not care what you want to do, Pierre. I agreed to secure this city, and secure I will do. I gave my word. Andrew Jackson needs our help, our men, our supplies. Have you no pride for your home? We will not lose to these scoundrels that believe they can win against us. We do not lose. We will not lose our homes. We will not lose our possessions. And we will not lose our ladies fair."_

_The young woman of blonde hair and bulging bust serves the ale. Jean grabs her by her flowing skirt and places her on his lap, cupping her chin in his hand and staring her in the eyes. "Mademoiselle, would you not wish me to protect your fine, pale skin and lovely, ruby lips?" he playfully smiles at her, while running a finger over her cheek down into her cleavage. _Hmm, she happens to look an awful lot like me, and Jean looks an awful lot like Edward_._

"_Our business is finished." He throws his arms in the air with his eyes steaming into hers. "Leave us!" All the men leave with haste, while Pierre, 'tsk, tsk' his way out. "Now, how would you like me to protect you, fair beauty?" _

_Jean runs his hands down her back, and she does not speak. She only stares into his eyes. "I think I will take you!" And with that, Jean wraps his arms around her, running his hands up and down her back, and passionately kisses those ruby, red lips. She responds in the like, pulling his long hair and bringing him closer to her panting body._

"_Oh, Monsieur, protect my body." She sloppily kisses his face and neck._

"_Oh, oh, oh, ooooo." She clumsily gets up and straddles his lap, wrapping her legs around him._

_Jean tries to tear at her clothing, only to tug enough for them to heavily fall on the floor. With grunts and moans, they roll around while in the throes of passion._

I open my eyes to see Edward staring at me_._ Giving him a playful smile, I shrug, "What?"

He takes a long gulp of air. "You were panting."

A faint, weird sound escapes me, and I can't seem to find the words to explain my daydream. I look around, eyes looking everywhere, but at Edward, and biting the inside of my cheek. "I kind of let my imagination run away with me." I make that small sound again and look up at him.

"You were mumbling something about protecting your body," he kids me.

I mumble into my hands that are over my heated face. "Um, yeaaaaah, I was!" I flush, blush and turn beet red.

"When you turn back to your normal color, maybe you'll tell me what you were dreaming about." He laughs … too much.

The ride back to the stables is silent. Although, I do hear Edward quietly chuckling to himself with shaking shoulders. I ball up my fists ready to pop him one, if he continues laughing at me.

We arrive, I quickly hurl myself out of the carriage, and into Julia's stall.

Edward shouts after me, "Bella!"

I start to pick up my pace and run into the building. Moments later, Edward breathlessly enters holding Julia's reigns. "Bella, why did you take off like that?"

I pout, "I'm not used to being laughed at." I continue to pack up my things.

I hear him draw in a large breath. "I'm sorry. I wasn't laughing at you."

I turn to look at him, pointing a finger at him. "And don't say you were laughing with me, because I wasn't laughing."

Just as Edward is about to open his cowardly mouth, he stops as a tall, slender blonde guy walks into the stall. He gives me a nod and smiles, then, stares Edward down. "Am I interrupting anything?"

Edward breathes easily. "Hey, Jazz. I'd like for you to meet Bella." He looks at me. "Bella, this is my best friend, Jasper."

Jasper walks over, bends to take my hand, and I shake his firmly. "Nice to meet you, Jasper."

"The pleasure is all mine, little lady." He politely gestures and pats my hand.

I look around awkwardly. "Well, since Jasper is here, I'm going to get going," I blurt out.

"But I thought I was taking you home?" Edward innocently questions.

I'm not nasty in my behavior, but I'm not exactly a warm fire. "No, don't worry about it, I'll take the streetcar." I hastily move to the door, with basket in hand. I don't look at him. "I'll see you later." I turn to Jasper. "Again, it was nice to meet you, Jasper." He nods.

I walk outside and hear Jasper say, "What the fuck did you do?"

EPOV

I watch her leave the stall.

I want to call after her.

I want her to stop.

My feet stick to the floor. Jasper says something, but I don't hear him. "What did you say, Jazz?"

He glares at me, "I said, what the fuck did you do?"

I scratch my head. "I really don't know."

"Well, she seems to have handed you your pink slip." He grunts. "I've never seen a girl ever tell you off. That was weird."

"Do you think she was mad?" I ask.

He scratched _his_ head and thinks. "She was kind of cool, Edward."

"Man, we were flirting." I start to pace in front of Julia. "Well, I thought we were. Then, she cut me off."

"Yeah, I heard that part about how you were laughing at her." He sighs. "Man Edward, that just downright stupid. You never laugh at a lady. Alice would have nailed my nuts for that."

"She doesn't come on to me, Jazz. She's nice and sweet, and I don't think she's interested in me," I admit.

"When did you meet her?" he asks.

"Last night."

"She paid for a ride with you?" he asks.

"No, she works at Cafe du Monde. I bought a coffee from her. We talked and I asked her to come on a ride."

Jasper examines me and looks at my face close up. "You like her."

"Yeah, I like her. I want to know more about her." I excitedly grab Jasper. "But Jazz, she rides, I let her ride my Glide."

Jazz wiggles his eyebrows, "Well, I'd say you know her pretty good, man!"

I shove him. "Fuck, she rode my bike, you asshole!"

"Man, you're giving me mixed signals. You think she isn't into you, yet you let her ride your bike." Jasper quips.

"I don't know what came over me."

Jasper puts an arm around my shoulders. "Edward, I think you met your match."

"Jazz, she's not into me like that." I moan.

"Then, make her into you, Edward. I've never seen a female walk away from you," he states.

"Really? I think you just did." I take a brush and wipe down Julia. She moves in the opposite direction, swatting me with her tail.

"Not you, too!" I complain to Julia.

BPOV

I'm so mad I could spit, but somehow, with great fortune, I manage to miss Aunt Sally and beat the kitchen up making banana bread.

I feel better.

I fill the loaf pan with half the batter, sprinkle brown sugar and chopped almonds in the center and then add sliced, banana pieces, about one inch in thickness. Pouring the rest of the batter into the pan, I sprinkle the top with brown sugar, cinnamon, almonds and banana slices. Two pans go into the oven, and I begin to clean up.

I hope this will be a pleasant memory for Garrett. He seems like such a nice guy.

Aunt Sally walks in, takes a deep breath and smiles broadly. "Oh, I do love you, JujuBee. Yum, banana bread. You spoil me."

I tease, "How do you know this is for you?"

She frowns, "You'd give it to Edward before me?"

"Don't start with being wounded, again. This is for another driver, Garrett. He lost his wife in Katrina. She used to make him banana bread."

Sally hugs me and takes my face in her hands. "You have a heart of gold."

I smile. "I made two loaves."

"Oy, you terrible girl, taunting me with a banana." _Forever dramatic._

"No, I'll let Richard do that." I have a big stupid grin, but I regret my comment, as soon as it leaves my mouth.

She peels a banana and takes a huge bite. "And he has such a big banana."

"TMI. TMI." I put my hands over my ears. "You always have to take it too far."

She giggles with a deep, raspy voice, "Oh, and I love it that far!"

I run out of the room. "You're wicked and pervy."

She howls, "All the better to orgasm, little girl!"

I shout from my room, "Slut!"

Aunt Sally takes pity on me, and drives me to the Quarter. She has an entire banana bread to herself when she gets back home. I arrive fifteen minutes early, so I can give Garrett his toasted bread and butter.

Yes, I have some for Edward, too.

I walk up to Garrett, as he is bent over inspecting a pile of pooh.

"Do you clean that up or are there pooper scoopers?" I jokingly giggle.

"Bella, oh no, we have street people who clean the 'poop'." He smiles.

"So, what do you have there?" He stares at the tinfoil package.

"As promised," I peel the foil open and hand it to him.

He bends his head down and takes a huge whiff of the thick sandwiches of banana bread, grabs a piece and pops it into his mouth. He hums with delight. "Now, that brings back memories." He smiles. "It's delicious, thank you." He takes another a bite of the buttered bread."

"The other piece has cream cheese." I announce.

Garrett looks at me, takes the cream cheese sandwich and takes a bite. "Now, that is good," he mumbles nodding his head.

Edward walks over with his head down and very softly says my name, 'Bella'.

I turn to him and hand him the other tinfoil package, and with my eyes down, I awkwardly sputter, "This is for you."

Garrett assesses the uncomfortable air around us and excuses himself. "I need to get a coffee. Edward, would you watch my carriage?"

Edward looks up at him. "Sure."

As Garrett walks across the street, Edward tells me to 'wait here' and runs to his carriage.

He walks back with a single, thornless, yellow rose. He extends his hand out to me and barely whispers, "I'm sorry. I wasn't making fun at you."

I'm speechless with my mouth wide opened, staring at the rose.

"The florist told me that yellow roses are for apologies and I owed you one. She also said that I should have the thorns removed."

I barely speak, "Why?" I finally look up at him seeing his sad look of remorse.

"Something about my explanation," He digs his hands into his jeans pockets and fidgets. "I told her what happened, and she said it was the thing to do, whatever that means."

I nod. "Um, I've got to get to work."

"Okay."

"Edward, I wasn't mad. Well, maybe in the beginning." I sigh. "I've got to go." I turn back to him. "Thank you." I extend the rose out and smile. "And try the bread!"

Garrett meets me halfway across the street, carrying two large coffees.

"Thanks again, Bella." He stares at the rose and raises his eyebrows. "Still friends?"

I bite the inside of my cheek. "Yeah." I look over to see Edward watching us. I wave and hug my rose.

The sweetness of that boy. A yellow rose for an apology. Hmmm, and whatelse does it mean?

A/N: Thank you to my Beta, Sunflower Fran. I appreciate her time, her proper grammar and quick pen. Another great find by PAD!

To Robseve and Postapocalypticdepository (PAD), my pre-readers that give their unselfish time and creative input. Both of these ladies are inspirations and true friends.

Now, let me rec Postapocalypticdepository stories, since she so graciously rec'd mine.

Never Judge by the Cover: 9056924

Boys Will Be: 8868006

Rude Awakenings: 8876785

It's a New Dawn, It's a New Year: 8862243 (complete)

And thank you to all the readers, whether you review or not. I enjoy every comment and suggestion. Yes, NOLA (New Orleans, LA) is an exciting place to live. And to combine the old world with the new is a challenge, but the humor is quite a serious business. My objective is for all of you to smile, after each chapter.

Now, charities: Please, donate and receive endless stories for your reading pleasure. You give a little and get a lot. Help these charities reach their goals.

Fandoms for Autism (Fandoms4Autism) Donations due by July 27 2013, been extended.

Fandom for Leukemia and Lymphoma Society (fandom4lls) Donations due by August 30 2013

Next up: EPOV


	10. Chapter 10

Under My Nose

Edward Cullen sets a deadline of six months to find his true love, before he turns thirty. Leaving his successful restaurant to drive a mule-drawn carriage in the French Quarter of New Orleans, he searches for the meaning of true love, because he has yet to understand it. Will he know when he finds her or will she be right under his nose? Can bubbly, buxom Bella tantalize his taste buds with beignets and an abundant booty?

Hey Everyone: This chapter is Beta'd. I completely thought I had sent Fran this chapter and, when yesterday came and went, I realized I hadn't sent it to her. So, please, forgive my comma misplacements. I truly suck at this. And Fran took pity on me and did a lightning Beta job. She deserves a medal.

And, the recipe for the banana bread is at the end of this chapter.

Chapter Ten:

EPOV: January 2

As I watch Bella cross the street, Garrett hands me the cup of coffee and picks up a piece of bread from the tinfoil on his carriage seat. "This is really good. I didn't have the heart to tell her that my wife's bread was horrible. I kind of lied to Bella and said it was good." He silently laughs. "She would always burn it, and I would spread butter on it to make it taste better, because it was so dry." He sighs. "And it would fall apart."

He grabs for a piece with cream cheese and moans. "Now, this is good." Garrett holds the piece up to wave in Edward's face. "You should try it, Edward."

"Yeah, I'll eat it later. I'm not that hungry." I shrug.

A large group of people approaches Garrett's carriage, but he turns to me. "Talk with her." He pats me on the shoulder, walks away and greets his riders.

An hour later in the drizzling rain, I decide to call it a night. Garrett is still out on a tour and Bella is busy, and once again not any rides for us.

I return to the stables; brush Julia down, clean the stall and wipe off the carriage. By the time I finish, it's only a little before eleven. I have time to stop at the restaurant, check in with Jazz and get to Bella before she gets off work.

Jasper gives me a rundown of the receipts, and evening's tally. I don't know whether I feel good or bad about the restaurant running so smoothly without me.

I tell Jasper that I'm heading out, and he asks me where I'm going in such a hurry. I say to meet up with Bella, and he nods his head. "Ah, the feisty one."

I smile. "Yeah, I want to catch her before she leaves work."

He grins, "all right."

It's almost midnight, when I arrive at Cafe du Monde. As I park out front, Bella walks out back stepping and waving goodnight to a few co-workers. She turns around, holding my rose in her hand.

Leaning on my seat with my legs crossed at the ankles and my arms across my chest, I smile at her. "Hey."

She looks around and her eyebrows knit together in a frown. "Where's Julia?"

"I cut out early, because of the rain and no rides." I shrug.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Edward, I guess with the rain going all night, people weren't interested in tours."

"A drizzle, and the other drivers were busy," I groan with disappointment.

Bella smiles and gently places her hand on my shoulder. "I think I have an idea that will bring you business." She nods her head and wrinkles up her nose.

"You want to go get a drink? I ask.

"Sure." She smiles, again. Yeah, her smile.

"Hop on." I straddle the seat and start the bike.

I help her get behind me, and I try to give her my helmet.

"No, that's okay," she declines.

Her scent fills my head, and I lean back into her. She rests her cheek on my back, as we move through traffic. The temperature is colder, so I'm sure I'm nothing but a shield from the bitter wind.

It can rain cats and dogs, or choking big toads, and people still flood Bourbon Street. We get very lucky, as a car pulls out right in front of the bar and I easily move into the space. Bella stands with me at the meter, as I swipe my credit card and pay for parking. She carefully holds the rose.

I grab her hand and guide us through a maze of people in the outer, patio area and finally walk into the entrance. Bella excuses herself to go to the ladies room. I stand near the bar, taking my jacket off and checking the place out. Emmett goes on and on how great the service and food are here. Maybe I can get Bella to eat with me. I'd like to see for myself how good the food is.

The surroundings are warm and very red, depicting the turn of the century, red light district. There are pictures of hookers on the walls of the dining room and downstairs, in the bar, there is fancy, red wallpaper with antique mirrors and faux lighting. The seating consist of red, cushion chairs with square, marble-top tables. There is a spiral stairway leading to the second floor with gray wallpaper of lips, eyes, legs, masked eyes and corsets of yesteryear looking through large keyholes.

I watch the wait staff, and they seem very quick and efficient. The plating and presentation of the food is impressive and the portions are healthy.

Bella walks towards me, and I catch my breath. Her hair is down, and it falls around her shoulders and down her back. With her coat in her arms, she wears a purple sweater that shows off her breasts that are pretty full and more than a handful, making hands ache. She catches me staring at her chest and I quickly look away. "Ah, do you want to sit at the bar or get a table?"

She smiles with an eyebrow up, "Whatever you'd like, Edward."

It's busy for a weeknight, but we do get a small table in the corner. The music isn't very loud. We can actually talk and hear one another. I hang my jacket on the back of my chair and help Bella do the same.

Bella places the rose, which is now wrapped in a damp, paper towel on the table. She looks at me. "I didn't want it to wilt."

A waitress approaches us and takes our drink order. Bella is a beer drinker. Fuck. The woman is a beer-drinking, Harley riding, and pastry baking anomaly, in a very good way.

Once we get our beers, I talk Bella into trying a few dishes. "I'm hungry. All I ate all day was your banana bread, and it was good."

She blushes. "I'm glad you liked it. Garrett said it was like his wife's. I'm glad I could make him smile. He seems so lonely."

I look at her, really look at her. "That matters to you, doesn't it?"

"He's a very nice man." She shrugs, and looks at the menu and I say nothing of Garrett's confession. "So, what do you want to eat?"

We both scan the menu, and decide on three different appetizers; jalapeno poppers, loaded potato skins, and shrimp kabobs. I want a bowl of Gumbo, a steak with sautéed mushrooms and onions, served with mashed potatoes, while Bella orders a Morning After Burger with a sunny side up egg and bacon.

"So, what's this idea you have?" I lean forward and place my arm on the back of her chair.

"Well, I know it has only been a few days, and once people do catch on about a romantic tour, you will get busy, Edward. I just think that you could stage your presentation with more hype." She says this very cautiously.

"Okay, but how?" I shift in my seat and lean closer to her as the background noise gets louder.

"You're telling a romantic tale of thievery, danger and excitement." She pauses and sighs. "But it's your clothing." She waves her hands around. "Okay, I'll say it. You look kind of sloppy." She looks at me and starts to apologize. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

"My brother says I look homeless," I mumble.

"But you look clean." She bites her lip, "just disheveled."

"But most of the drivers dress like me," I defend himself.

"Edward, they aren't doing romantic tours with a two-seater. They aren't promising grandeur of the heart. You must show the dramatic history and present a story that challenges a couple to fall in love with the heritage of New Orleans and fall in love with one another again. You want the women to swoon, and the men to admire you. Bring the past into the present."

"That's a lot to digest." I sigh.

The waitress and another waiter finally show up with all of our food, and we laugh. The table isn't big enough for all the plates.

Since the hour is late and on a weeknight, and the crowd is small, the waitress moves another table closer to us. We place half the dishes on the other table and dig in to our appetizers.

Bella pulls a huge shrimp off of the stick and pops it into her mouth, moans and stuffs a piece into my mouth. "Oh God, eat this, Edward."

Her moan makes me take notice. I chew her offering and stare up at her with surprise. "It's good."

The sauce from the shrimp drips all over her fingers, and she stuffs another one into my mouth. "You have to taste the sauce."

As she licks her fingers, running her tongue up the side of her hand, I swallow a huge gulp.

She takes her napkin and cleans her hands off. "Sorry, I got carried away."

I smile. "By all means, continue."

She shoves a jalapeno into my mouth and one in hers. "Hot, too hot." She waves her hands over her mouth, grabs her beer, chugs it and coughs.

I pat her on the back. "You okay?"

Breathlessly, she gasps, "I caught a seed." She exhales with bulging eyes. "Like swallowing fire."

"Eat a potato skin." I grab one, place it by her mouth and she takes a bite. I watch her tongue lick her lips, as she chews and smiles.

She pats her chest. "Thank you, Edward, you put out the fire."

And without thinking, I carelessly blurt, "I was hoping to keep you burning."

We stare at one another and then ... we laugh.

Bella hands me my bowl of gumbo and my entree plate, as she takes her burger.

"I can't eat well-done meat." She waves her arms all around. "I like my cow still mooing. I know, it's not healthy, but I hate dry, well-done steak."

"When I was a kid, I ate raw hamburger," I confess.

"Really? Aunt Sally makes a hell of a tartar." She smiles.

"So, you like raw meat?" I ask.

She turns bright red and spits out her bite across the table. Bella grabs her napkin and coughs into it. She takes a deep breath, exhales slowly and stares at me with her wide, chocolate eyes. "You are full of surprises, tonight."

"I seem to have no control over my mouth with you," I shamefully admit.

Bella rolls her eyes. "We both seem to have verbal diarrhea of the sexual content."

"You do bring out the erotic innuendos hidden in me," I laugh, and catch myself. "See?"

"Hmm, playful porn, voluptuous vaginas and provocative penises, carnal clits and killer cocks. Bet you can't say that three times?" She spits out quickly.

"I don't think I could say it once," I choke.

"Flirtatious phallics, and titillating tits. Sorry, I had to get those out." She's a she-devil and I love it.

Bella takes a bite of her burger, and I place a mouthful of steak into mine, and she playfully admits with pursed lips and croons, "I love raw meat!"

And my steak does hurl across the room.

We clean up most of our platters, so when the waitress walks over and asks if we want dessert, we scan the menu again.

"Edward, where are you going to put dessert?" Bella asks.

I rub my stomach. "Right here, Baby. If you haven't noticed, I'm a sucker for sweets."

I look at the waitress. "Would you mind bringing us a Red Hottie Velvet Cake and a Bordello Bread Pudding with extra whipped cream." As the waitress walks away. I look at Bella, "unless you want something else; coffee, tea?"

"No, thank you, I'll watch you gorge yourself." She looks at me with a challenging face.

I lean forward. "You'll have to try a taste."

Her eyes get wide, and I realize what I just said and clear my throat. _What the fuck is wrong with me?_

"Haven't you seen enough food hurl, tonight?" she giggles.

"Like I said, I always have room for dessert." I pat my stomach.

"Isn't that, 'There's always room for Jello'?" she taunts me.

"Hey, don't knock the Jello!" I kid her.

The waitress brings me the desserts with two forks. I place both the plates between Bella and me. I scoop up some of the cake and extend the fork to her. "Take a bite."

She leans forward, eyes on me, opens her mouth and wraps her lips around the fork. I watch ever so closely with my mouth open.

She moans.

I squirm in my seat.

"This is so bad, it's that good, but I can't eat anymore." She shakes her head.

I make a pouty face. "Just try the bread pudding." I scoop a small bite and feed it to her.

"Hmmm, yum, that's really delicious. You eat, Edward." But she dips her finger into the whipped cream. I can't take my eyes off of her, as she pops her finger into her mouth and smiles. "I love whipped cream, it has so many uses."

I think I stop breathing.

Every sound goes silent.

And Bella quickly gushes, "Facials, I meant facials. God, we are so bad." She blushes.

We just laugh.

I finish off the cake and pudding in record timing and lean against the chair, stretching my legs. "Now, I'm full."

The waitress comes back, asks if we want anything else and I pay the bill with protests from Bella wanting to pay for her own meal. "Hey, I asked you out!"

She retorts, "But that doesn't mean you pay for me!"

"A gentleman pays that's the rule," I adamantly state.

"Rules can be broken, Edward." She crossed her arms over her chest, and I try not to stare.

"Well, not with me. I invited you, so I pay. Besides, you've made lunch and multiple desserts." I huff. "One good turn deserves another."

When I turn into the driveway, I shut the motor off, and grab Bella by the hand helping off of the bike.

We walk up the stairs in silence.

Bella takes her key out of her purse, and she is still holding the rose with care, as we approach the front door. "Thank you for dinner. Well, a huge midnight snack." She giggles.

I grab the screen door, open it and lean my back against it. "Thanks for going with me. We'll have to go back there again."

She smiles up at me. "Sure."

I hesitate, but ask, "So, what about the clothes thing?"

"You need to have a makeover, Edward, if you agree." She bites her lip. I stare. "A polished appearance will attract the people. Julia is getting all the attention. We … I mean, you, need to turn that around."

She leans up against the door with her hands behind her back, and I place my hand above her head. She fits right under me.

"So, what should I do, Bella?"

She stares up at me and bites the inside of her cheek. "You need to trim or shave off your beard. If you want to keep your hair long, then maybe a ponytail, depicting the hairstyle of Jean Lafitte's era. Maybe a costume of a driver, or you dress as Jean Lafitte, the pirate," she suggests.

I sigh, back away and lean on the railing. "You really think that would work?"

She smiles. "It's worth giving it a try. What have you got to lose?"

I look up at her. "I don't want my looks to be an issue."

She stands in front of me and scratches my beard. "Apparently, there is a man of little scruff under all that fuzz."

She catches herself and pulls her hand away. "And why should it be a big deal to use your good looks to attract customers? You're not pimping, Edward. You're advertising your tours."

She jokes, "Unless you are using Julia to find you women."

With shock, I quickly glare and spit, "Of course not!"

She backs away with her hands up. "Okay. Okay ... I'm sorry."

She turns towards the door. "Well, guess I'll see you tomorrow night." She opens the screen door, and I grab it from her.

"Look, I'm the one who's sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you," I apologize. "Will you help me?" I bend down to her short level and give her my best puppy dog eyes. "Please?"

There is a hint of a half grin on her lips.

I grab her shoulders and play those eyes up. "Please?"

She sighs. "You're not playing fair."

"What pirate does?" I broadly smile.

She smiles, and I surprised myself, and I hug her. I wrap my arms around her shoulders, resting my chin on her head, as she wraps hers around my waist. I don't want to let go.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOO … An intimate hug ... close bodies … What next?

A/N: Thank you to my Beta, Sunflower Fran. I appreciate her time, her proper grammar and quick pen. Another great find by PAD!

To Robseve and Postapocalypticdepository (PAD), my pre-readers that give their unselfish time and creative input. Both of these ladies are inspirations and true friends.

Now, let me rec Postapocalypticdepository stories, since she so graciously rec'd mine.

Never Judge by the Cover: 9056924

Boys Will Be: 8868006

Rude Awakenings: 8876785

It's a New Dawn, It's a New Year: 8862243 (complete)

And thank you to all the readers, whether you review or not. (Ah, but I wish you would review!) I enjoy every comment and suggestion. Yes, NOLA (New Orleans, LA) is an exciting place to live. And to combine the old world with the new is a challenge, but the humor is quite a serious business. My objective is for all of you to smile, after each chapter.

Bella's Banana Bread recipe for Edward:

1 ¾ Cup sifted all-purpose flour ⅓ Cup shortening

2 teaspoon baking powder ⅔ Cup sugar

¼ teaspoon baking soda 2 eggs, well beaten

½ teaspoon salt 1 Cup mashed ripe bananas

1 Cup brown sugar

1 sliced banana

1 Cup chopped almonds

Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees

Mix dry ingredients together in a medium bowl.

In a large bowl, cream shortening with sugar. Add eggs and mashed bananas, beat until smooth. Add chopped almonds.

Place half of batter into a greased, loaf pan. Sprinkle ½ Cup of brown sugar and place sliced bananas on top. Fill the pan with the rest of the batter and top with brown sugar and the rest of the banana slices. Bake for 1 hour. Yields 1 loaf.

Next up: EPOV


	11. Chapter 11

Under My Nose

Edward Cullen sets a deadline of six months to find his true love, before he turns thirty. Leaving his successful restaurant to drive a mule-drawn carriage in the French Quarter of New Orleans, he searches for the meaning of true love, because he has yet to understand it. Will he know when he finds her or will she be right under his nose? Can bubbly, buxom Bella tantalize his taste buds with beignets and an abundant

booty?

Chapter Eleven:

EPOV: January 3

Yeah, I lean my chin on the top of her head, while she strokes my back so gently. We don't say anything, but our breaths match in a raised rhythm.

Her hair is soft and silky to the touch; I sigh into her, and her scent intoxicates me.

She barely whispers, "Are you okay?"

I don't want to, but I pull back to see her concerned face. "I'm fine. You gave me a lot to think about, Bella." _Hmm, more than you could possibly know._

"Edward, don't make it an ego thing. Just use your assets to your advantage." She bites the inside of her cheek, and I pull it free.

I want … I can't … not now. I break from her and grin. "Okay, I'll call you in the morning."

"Late morning?" she chimes. "Some of us need beauty sleep."

I softly say, "You're fine the way you are."

Man, does she blush.

"Thanks. Aunt Sally says," she impersonates her aunt, 'You're magnificent, JujuBee!'. Oh God!"

"Yeah, I meant to ask you about that. Why does she call you JujuBee?"

"They are her favorite candy, besides chocolate. She says I am purely sweet." She rolls her eyes. "Now, that's unconditional, sickening love."

"My mom is like that. The sun sets and rises with my brother and me according to her." I complain. "Okay, I'm going to head out and I'll call you around noon."

"That's fine, and thank you for dinner. Next time, I pay!" She points a finger at me and leans up to kiss my cheek. I close my eyes with her lips on me and take a slow breath. I kiss the top of her head because if I look at her, I will lose control.

I back away, move down the steps and get on my bike. I shout, "Noon!"

She giggles. "I'll set my alarm for "11:55, okay?"

"And no falling out of bed!" I laugh.

"Oh, I've already done my falling!" she admits.

I wish.

I arrive home, parking my bike in the alcove, and surprised to find Jasper's bike still in the corner.

The restaurant is dark, so I take myself up the stairs. Before I can get my key into the lock, the door flies open. Disheveled hair and angered, wild eyes, Jasper lays into me. "Where have you been? I've been waiting for hours. You don't answer your phone, and you don't let anyone know what's going on?"

I saunter past him. "What the fuck is with you? You're acting like my father."

"Oh, you need to call your parents later. They are worried about you." He looks down.

"Jazz, you called them?" I shout.

"Well, if you picked up your phone, I wouldn't have," he answers smugly.

"You gotta be fucking kidding me!" I rant and look at my watch. "It's only after two."

Jaspers corrects me. "Closer to three! That's two nights in a row."

"For Christ sake, why are you stalking me?" I walk into my room, and Jasper follows. "I was out."

"What were you doing that you couldn't call?" Jasper waves his arms around.

I close my eyes, talk a breath and collect myself before I deck him.

"Jazz, what's with this crazy behavior?"

Alice walks in dressed in a robe. "It's crazy to be worried about you?"

I look from Alice to Jasper, put my hands on my hips and look down.

Alice softly says, "Edward, we're not used to you taking off and not calling to tell us where you will be."

"Alice, I told Jazz I was meeting up with Bella, when we went over the receipts."

Alice turns to Jasper and gives him the evil eye. "And why didn't you tell me that? I thought he was totally missing, you moron," she spits. Jasper tries to defend himself, but she cuts him off. "Zip it." He opens his mouth. "Sssh." He pleads and she runs her finger over her throat and speaks through clenched teeth, "Not … a … word from you!"

Jasper sits on the edge of my bed, hanging his head.

"I'm sorry, Edward. He was all upset that you weren't home by one and called me to come over here."

Then, she realizes I said, 'Bella'.

"Oooooo, so you were with Bel-laaaa," she elongates and smiles up at me. I beam, and she explodes into the hugest smile. "Edward, are you blushing?" She giggles. "I think you are blushing."

I try to hide my smile and protest, "I'm not blushing."

Alice screams in excitement, "You are so. Oh my God, you found her."

She runs to me, jumps up and hangs on me, screaming in laughter, "Oh thank God, you didn't even have to search for your lost love too long." She screams some more. "This is great!".

She jumps off me and onto the floor, jumping up and down and shaking Jasper. "This is so amazing." Another scream escapes out of her mouth. "Oh my God, I'm so happy for you." She waves her hands at her side.

Jasper smiles at her, and then looks at me.

I hang my head.

She stares at me with a frown. "What?" She throws her hands up. "Why aren't you excited, Edward? What did you do?"

I sigh and rub my neck. "Alice, she only likes me as a friend."

"I can't believe that." She takes a very long look at me. "Well, maybe since you look like a homeless person," she complains.

I moan. "She's not like that, Alice. I get the feeling she's not impressed by looks or money."

"Isn't that what you want, Edward. What you've been bitching about for months?" Alice rants and impersonates me, " I don't want a woman who hangs all over me. I want someone to let me be the man." She huffs, "So the first girl who doesn't fawn all over you, you deem untouchable? You are such a wuss."

"Alice, why should I go after her, when she's clearly not interested?" I defend myself.

"And how do you know she is not interest, Mr. All Knowing?" she spits.

"Because she's nice to everyone," I answer.

"Oh my God, I never thought you were this stupid. When did you become clueless?" Alice glares at me.

Jasper speaks up. "She did walk away from him."

I wave my hands and gesture towards Jasper. "Exactly!"

Alice looks at me and then at Jasper. "Why did she walk away from you?"

"She thought I had made fun of her," I barely whisper.

Alice's eyes bulge out. "What did you do?"

"I sort of laughed at her." I hang my head … again.

"You're lucky she didn't take your balls with her." She shakes her head back and forth. "Edward, you need help."

I frown. "Like a shrink?"

She bores a hole in my head with her stare. "No, but that's a distinct possibility." She paces. "You need help with her."

"Hey, I did apologize, and gave her a yellow rose." I defend myself again. "And the florist took off all the thorns, too."

Alice smiles and questions in a weird way. "She did? Why's that?"

"I explained what happened, and she said no thorns fit my behavior." I admit.

"You're fucking clueless, Cullen. You apologized, and declared love at first sight or love without heartbreak. I don't remember exactly which one!" Her hands go on her hips.

That does worry me. "Do you think Bella would know that?"

Alice restates, "Do _you_ think she would know?"

I start to pace. "It's possible, but I know her aunt would." I stand and look at Alice. "And how do you know this?" I question her.

She breathes heavily and clutches her chest. "Edward, I live for love, for God's sake." She takes a long breath. "When you do see her next?" Alice prods.

"I said I would call her at noon."

Alice continues, "And what do you have planned?"

I sigh. "We're going costume shopping. She thinks I need a makeover."

"If you don't date her, I will!" Alice swears. "You know her all of two days and she's got your best interest at heart. You clueless fool; she likes you!"

I sit next to Jazz and stare at him. "Tell her."

Jasper leans forward, places his arms on his thighs and looks up at Alice. "Darlin', I do believe you are right."

"What the fuck, Jazz? You saw her walk away. You said she was the first to do it." I breathless ramble.

"Edward, she wouldn't spend time with you or accept your apology unless she did." Jasper smoothly sits back up.

"Then, let me help you, Edward," Alice pleads. "I want you to be happy. You know I would do anything for you. Let me see for myself. You know I know these things."

I softly smile at her. "Yeah, okay. You guys could meet us for lunch."

Alice goes ballistic and tackles Jasper on my bed. "This is going to be great." She looks at me. "Edward, I can hear wedding bells." She giggles.

"That's the ringing in your ears. Now, both of you get off my bed and get the fuck out of here."

They both get up and head for the door. Alice turns and smiles, singing the Wedding March.

I wake up early. Yeah, right. I didn't sleep a wink, too many what-ifs bouncing in my head, worrying if this idea will work.

I know Alice won't do anything to sabotage me. She always does the right thing. I just feel fragile about not knowing where I stand or if I stand.

But the one thing I do want is to be close to her. Bella draws me in like no one has ever done. I want to get to know her. I want her to know me. If we are only friends, then so be it, but I feel this pull.

A knock at my door pulls me out of my reverie, but before I can get to it, I hear Emmett slam in. "Hey Edward, you up?"

I walk out to the living room as Emmett closes the front door.

"I had a few cancellations, so I'm free for lunch. I'm craving hot dogs." He smiles. "You feel like going to _Dat Dog_. My treat." He grabs and hugs me.

I break away from him before he gets it into his head to give me a noogie. "I already have plans."

"And?" He crosses his arms over his chest.

I clear my throat. "Alice wants to meet Bella."

"I don't talk with you for two days and there's a Bella?" he questions.

"I met her in the Quarter," I mumble.

"Don't tell me she took a ride with you?" Emmett chokes.

"She works at Cafe du Monde. I went in for a coffee." I shrug.

Emmett smiles. "Really?" He stares at me, and I fidget. "I want to meet this woman who makes you a pussy."

"Shut the fuck up!" He irritates me. "You don't get to meet anyone."

"Edward, I'm your brother and you'd rather have Alice and Jasper meet her?" He feigns injury. "That hurts, man."

"Well, Jasper already met her." Emmett gets defensive and I explain. "He came by the stables when Bella was with me."

"You took her to the stables? Edward, what a way to show a girl a good time. 'Hey, meet my ass!' This homeless look has rotted your brain." He roars with laughter.

I combat. "That's getting fucking old, Em!"

"I don't know if I should laugh or cry. I know Mom will cry."

"Fuck, I forgot to call Mom," I moan.

"And Mom's going to meet her, too?" he complains.

"No! Jazz called her, looking for me. Long story." I quickly try to avoid any more conversation. "Look, I've got to call Bella in an hour, and I have a few things to do."

Emmett settles himself on the sofa, grabs my remote, flips on the TV and gets comfortable; his feet up on the coffee table. "You do what you gotta do. I'll be right here." He looks at the screen, crossing his feet at the ankles.

Defeated, I sigh and leave the room. Emmett laughs.

Finally, I tell Emmett I'll meet him for lunch, and he admittedly tells me if I don't show up, he will call our mother. That's blackmail of the dirtiest kind.

As I cross over Canal Street to Dorgenois, I see Bella waiting on her front steps and I glide into the driveway. She walks to me with a huge smile on her face, holding a small box. Her hair hangs down her back in a long braid thingy. I look at her shoes, and they are high-heel sneakers. But what catches my eye is her black, biker, hoodie sweats. Bella belongs to a female biker group.

"Hey, Edward!"

"Hey, yourself. I like your hoodie." I point and pull my helmet off.

She kids, "This old thing?" and giggles.

I question. "B.A.B.E.S.?" I read the logo, "Boston Area Bike Enthusiast Sisters." I nod my head. "But I thought you lived in New York?"

"I did, but I liked this group to ride with every other weekend. So, I'd head down to Boston and hang out with my girls, sort of like a biker sorority." She extends the small box to me, and I open it to find a bell. "Now, we have this belief that each biker needs protection from evil road spirits. You know, the little suckers who play havoc with our bikes. So, for this protection, we keep a bell on our bike to ward off these evil spirits. I have one on mine, so I thought you might like one. The ringing allegedly drives the spirits wild and sends them away."

I smile at her. "Really?"

She stands firmly. "Yeah!"

"Well, thank you, and I have something for you." I hand Bella a bag from on my seat.

She looks at me with a puzzled face and takes out a Harley helmet with the Harley name in a pink, crystal medallion on the front. "I have the same one back home." She shakes her head at me. "Thank you." And forcefully lunges and hugs me. I'm still on my bike and juggle my own helmet, trying to wrap an arm around her.

"This was so thoughtful of you." She whispers into my ear.

I gripe, "Well, you won't wear my helmet."

Again, she whispers in my ear, giving me chills, "Thank you, Edward."

I pull back. "Okay, put that damn thing on and let's get going." I sigh.

She hops on the back with the helmet on. "You don't seem that thrilled about lunch."

"My brother is joining us." I start the bike.

By the time we get to _Dat Dog_, I see Emmett sitting across from Alice and Jasper at one of the picnic tables in the outside patio area, laughing hysterically with one another.

There aren't any parking spaces between Dat Dog and the Music Exchange. I do a U-turn and find a spot on the other side of the street.

Bella and I enter the patio and Emmett looks in our direction. Actually, he doesn't look at me; he gives Bella a full sweep with his eyes, taking her in from head to toe. This makes me feel very uncomfortable.

We reach the table and both Emmett and Jasper stand.

Before I can say anything, Emmett gives her a huge smile. "Well, hello there, Bella. It's nice to meet you." He extends his hand, gently shakes it, and plants a kiss on her knuckles. "I don't do the suave, French thing Edward does, but I can sweep you off your petite feet with my English."

She giggles. "I'm sure you can, Emmett."

Jasper moans, "Don't listen to him." He motions towards Alice. "This is my woman, Alice."

Alice beams, "Hi Bella, so nice to meet you."

Bella squeezes Alice's hand and smiles, "It's really nice to meet you. Edward said you helped pick out the carriage. It's beautiful."

Alice looks down at Bella's shoes. "OOO, I love them."

And Bella smiles, "Thank you. What size do you wear?"

Alice quickly answers. "A six."

Bella lifts a foot up. "Well, you can borrow them anytime."

I can see a friendship is born, as they begin to talk fashion.

Emmett whispers in my ear, "Now, she looks like a lot to handle for you, Eddie, my boy. Maybe I should take her off your hands." He looks her up and down.

"She's not like anyone you've ever fucked!" I steam.

"How do you know?" Emmett taunts.

"Just keep away from her, Emmett." I warn.

Jasper, the peacekeeper, interrupts, "Okayyyyy, let's eat lunch." He separates Emmett and me. "Do you know what you want?"

Bella sits next to Alice and looks up at Jasper, "What do they have, Jasper?"

"Oh, Bella, you haven't eaten a hot dog, until you've eaten one from here. I always get the Guinness Dog," he laps his lips.

I add, "It's a Guinness sausage that's steamed and served on a toasted bun with Andouille sauce, bacon, tomatoes, sharp cheddar, green and white onions and, creole mustard. It's really good."

She thoughtfully looks at me. "What do you usually eat?"

"I get the a couple of beef hotdogs with mustard and relish, Cheddar Bacon Ranch Fries and a Root Beer."

"Ooo, that sounds good, but only one." She starts to get up.

"No, sit. I'll get it for you." I look at Alice and nod. "You want the Crawfish Etouffee` Fries and a plain dog with a diet coke?" She nods. "What do you want, Emmett?"

"My usual, but hey, I said I would pay," he argues.

"I'm quicker," I say.

Emmett agrees, "Yeah, well, they know you and all." I kick him. "What?"

"I'll go get the food. You behave!" I warn Emmett, again.

I walk to the line just outside the door and watch Emmett sit next to Bella.

By the time I walk out with a tray of drinks, there is a crowd around our table with people cheering and laughing.

I can't believe what I see. Bella sits between Emmett and Alice, while Emmett and Bella are thumb wrestling. Both of them huddle close together with a mock, hand size, wrestling ring over their hands and both of their thumbs poke through the center of the ring. Each thumb wears a Luchador, wrestling mask over the top of the nail. Emmett's is blood red, while Bella's is royal blue.

Emmett struggles, as Bella pokes and prods his huge thumb. They move, crashing into each other's sides. She laughs hysterically along with Emmett. I watch in horror. Jasper has tears running down his face, he laughs so hard and Alices raises her arms, getting the crowd to cheer.

The crowd starts to chant, "Bel-la! Bel-la! Bel-la!" People bang on the tables with their fists and stomp their feet on the ground.

And Emmett screams like a woman, as Bella pins his thumb down.

Jasper stands and yells, "And the winner of the First Thumb Wrestling War is Bella Swan."

Alice stands, pulling Bella up and holding Bella's arm up straight. The crowd roars as Bella takes a bow. She and Alice hug.

People walk away from the table, as I lay the tray down.

Emmett shouts, "Man, Edward, you missed it."

I stare at him in disbelief.

Okayyyyy. Is Edward upset with Emmett or Bella? And whose idea was the thumb wrestling?

A/N: Thank you to my Beta, Sunflower Fran. I appreciate her time, her proper grammar and quick pen. Another great find by PAD!

To Robseve and Postapocalypticdepository (PAD), my pre-readers that give their unselfish time and creative input. Both of these ladies are inspirations and true friends.

Now, let me rec Postapocalypticdepository stories, since she so graciously rec'd mine.

Never Judge by the Cover: 9056924

Boys Will Be: 8868006

Rude Awakenings: 8876785

It's a New Dawn, It's a New Year: 8862243 (complete)

And thank you to all the readers, whether you review or not. I enjoy every comment and suggestion. Yes, NOLA (New Orleans, LA) is an exciting place to live. And to combine the old world with the new is a challenge, but the humor is quite a serious business. My objective is for all of you to smile, after each chapter.

Next up: BPOV


	12. Chapter 12

Under My Nose

Bella Swan needs a change in pace, a slower groove to enjoy the simple pleasures life has to offer her. She moves from the Big Apple to the Big Easy, from subways to streetcars, from nouveau chic to historically quaint, from a large Manhattan apartment near Park Avenue to a shotgun house with her eccentric aunt, in Mid City and off Canal Street. She's ready for love, commitment and that happily ever after, but does she have the patience to wait out her heart's desire? It's frustrating to be right, "under his nose".

Chapter Twelve:

BPOV: January 3

The screams of the crowd roar around us. I can't believe all the pandemonium for a dumb, thumb wrestling prank. Emmett's laugh is glorious and full of spirit. He enjoys the attention and excitement, hooting and hollering with the crowd. I can see the brother resemblance in their eyes, but their direction is totally different. He's carefree and open, where Edward seems so withdrawn and tight, as if he is hiding something.

We both struggle; pushing and prodding our thumbs and bumping one another's shoulders. He almost knocks me off of the bench. I kick his chin. He steps on my toes. I think to myself, 'I like him as a big brother'. The chants of the crowd get my adrenaline hyped, and within a blink of an eye, I pin Emmett's thumb under mine.

In sheer delight, I scream. Alice grabs my arm, raises it in my victory and we hug, jumping in unison, while Jasper declares me as the First Winner of the Thumb Wrestling War.

The crowd explodes in a chorus of 'Bella, Bella, Bella'!

Someone shouts out, "Queen of the Thumb, her royal thumbness!"

Sheer applause and robust laughter echo throughout the outside picnic area.

Edward finally reaches the table with our drinks on a tray, and his death stare on Emmett gives me a chill up my spine.

Once again, Jasper separates them and passes out the drinks. He moves to sit next to Alice, and then escorts me to sit between Edward and Emmett; the chill and the heat.

Jasper breaks the God-awful silence with a huge smile and sarcasm. "So that was fun. Emmett where did you find the mini ring and masks?

"I think it was the novelty store a few blocks down." He gets testy and looks at Edward. "Someone kicked me out of their apartment, so I had some time on my hands and walked around."

"Well, maybe if you called …" Edward angrily scolds.

Jasper interjects, "Bella, Emmett has never lost at anything to anyone."

Emmett forgets Edward's comment. "She dug me with her fingernail!" he gripes.

I retaliate, ""You tried to trip me under the table!"

Emmett stutters, "I saw you s-s-stick out your boobs to distract me."

I can do a pretty good death stare, too. "I was not. They stick out on their own." And I grab them with force.

Alice giggles, but keeps her eyes on Edward.

I look at Emmett with my puppy dog face and pouty lips as I lay my hands on the table. "You really feel that way, Emmett?" I bat my eyelashes.

From the cold side, I feel an arm go around the back of my chair, and I smile.

"Bella, I don't lose, especially easily," he grumbles.

"Did you want a rematch?" I ask with sad eyes.

And from the cold side, he speaks, "I think you both had enough excitement for one day. This crowd would combust from another spectacle of Emmett's immaturity."

Whoa, where did that come from? A bitter taste forms in my mouth, as I look at Edward's steel expression towards Emmett.

And Emmett retaliates with venom, "Sorry if I gave your woman a good time, Edward!"

I stare at Emmett, but interrupt Edward's wrath with my hand in his face, and let Emmett have it with a whisper-shout, "Excuse you? One, I always have a wonderful time with your brother." I turn and smile at Edward, then look back at Emmett, "And two, I am not anyone's woman. So, shut it, Emmett. Why are you being such a bitch boy?"

Emmett's eyes are wide. Then again, as I scan the table, so is everyone elses.

Then, I turn to Edward. "Yeah, it was a stupid game, but not immature." I glance back at Emmett. "That's all it was. I beat you fair and square, so get over it, you lost!" I end my rant.

Alice stares at Edward and mumbles with a clenched jaw, "I'll date her!"

I look at her, then Edward. He oddly shrugs and inches closer to me.

And after all of that, the waitress finally brings our food. We eat in silence with our heads down, until Jasper starts to chuckle, which leads to a belly laugh, as he tries to catch his breath, holding dearly to his stomach. "I have never seen anyone take down the Cullen boys." He stands. "Bella, you are my hero!" He reaches over and high fives me.

Emmett makes a "fif" sound, as Edward tries to hold back his laughter.

When I don't finish my meal, I offer the rest to Edward, but Emmett reaches over and takes my paper plate.

"He won't eat anymore," Emmett slams the rest of the hotdog and fries into his mouth, chews, swallows and finishes off his drink. "Okay, thanks for lunch." He gives Edward a coy smile and stands. "I've got to get back to work."

"It was nice to meet you, Emmett." I smile.

"You!" And he points down at me. "I want a rematch, the next time we hang out," he orders, and winks.

I stand with my hand out, "It's a deal." I smirk and shake a finger at him. "But it's your demise."

He disregards my hand, pulls me into a hug and crunches me into his hard chest. "Lady, don't be so sure. I don't like the losing thing."

Emmett frees me from his arms, and walks away. "See you guys later."

I sit back down, as Edward gets up and stomps over to throw the trash away.

Alice watches me. "So, where do you plan on going for this makeover?"

I turn around to face Alice. "Well, Edward mentioned that there were a few vintage and costume shops nearby."

Alice grins. "What about his scruff and hair?"

"Once we get a few things, we'll go back to my Aunt's place and she can sort them out. She sews and I can hem, so between the two of us, we can make something work for him. And his hair just needs a trim, but the beard needs an overhaul." I lean forward. "Is he angry about something?"

Alice throws her hands up. "Who knows with Edward? He gets upset over the smallest things. But …" She leans forward. "He doesn't agree with Emmett's lifestyle."

I whisper, "Why?"

Jasper cuts in. "Emmett is a man-whore. He never dates a woman twice. Plus, Edward has been stagnant in the dating world."

Edward begins to walk towards the table and Alice quickly says, "We'll have to hang out sometime." She clears her throat. "So, Jasper promised me some Gelato. You want to come?"

"I'd really like to get this shopping thing over with," Edward says. "Maybe we can catch you later."

Alice blurts out, "You want to meet up at the restaurant?"

Edward seems a bit off, turns his head quickly in Alice's direction and says, "No, we can go somewhere else. I'll call you."

Alice frowns at Edward and I watch the interaction. "Okay."

Jasper stands. "Well, I'll be there later. I expect a call. I want to see the new and improved Edward."

Alice grabs me into a hug and whispers into my ear; "Please, don't give up on him." I just nod my head, as she and Jasper walk hand in hand out onto the sidewalk.

I turn to look at Edward, and he is in deep thought.

"Um, you still up for this?" I hesitantly ask.

He comes out of his daze. "Yeah, let's fucking do this."

We pass a few stores and come to a vintage clothing shop. Edward opens the door for me, and we walk in. It's a small store, but I find myself drawn to a rack on the right. I practically squeal when I find a black, wool coat with tails. I turn quickly to show Edward, who is so close to me that I ram right into his chest. He grabs my upper arms.

"I'm sorry," I apologize.

When I look up at him, his eyes are looking through me.

We don't speak.

We don't move.

His hands hold me close, and I hold my breath.

I softly whisper, "Edward, I found a coat." I hold it up for him to see. "I have some pictures of the clothing allegedly worn by Jean Lafitte. This looks like something he could have worn."

Edward releases my arms and takes hold of the coat. He clears his throat. "You researched this?"

"Well, I didn't want to go into this blindly. I found pictures of the designs for that era. But I also found pictures of Jean Lafitte. You know; he was around your height." I take a large breath. "Very tall, since most of the men were 5'7". He was 6'2"."

He smiles. "Was he?"

"Yeah." I smile back. "He was very young for a captain of a ship. He was only twenty-six."

"So, you checked him out?" He smiles.

"Are you making fun of me?" I ask with attitude.

"Oh, I wouldn't fucking dare, not after my stupid remarks in the stable." He scratches the back of his neck. "Yeah, Jean Lafitte, he was a character."

I get this great idea and my brain wants to explode. "Oh my God, Edward, I got it. Oh, oh, oh. I have the perfect idea for your romantic tours." I jump up and down and hug him. "Why didn't I think of this before? Please, try this on first, and then I'll tell you my idea."

Edward pulls off his bike jacket; I hold it, while helping him into the woolen coat. It fits him enough that we can work with it

His back is to me as I bury my face into his jacket. and take a large whiff of his sweat, cologne and leather scent. The smell paralyzes all of my senses, taking whatever breath or brain cells I have away.

We look around the shop and don ' t find anything else, so we pay for the coat, leaving to continue our search down Magazine Street.

The coat fits him enough that we can work with it. We do continue to look around the shop and don't find anything else. After Edward pays for the coat, we leave and walk down Magazine Street.

The wind is chilly, but not cold, and the sun warms my face. Edward slows his pace for me, since I take three steps to his one.

"So, what's the brainstorm you had?" He finally speaks.

I stop and turn to him.

"You need to be Jean Lafitte! Take your riders back into time and talk about his life as yours, where you came from, what you did, who you loved; God, even how you loved. Edward, he was charming and intelligent; striking in his appearance and dressed well. You could make this so very fascinating. A ride with a notorious pirate, successful entrepreneur who was loved more so than the city's governor." I take a breath. "What do you think?"

"Bella, I'm not an actor," he solemnly admits.

"You don't need to be. You know about the man." I plead, "You speak French. Have you any idea how you will make the people swoon? Even the men."

"Ah, I don't want to make any man swoon!" He frowns.

"Oh for God's sake, you aren't trying to seduce ..." And my light bulb goes on … again.

And I stop.

And I think.

And I pace.

People move around me. Edward grabs my arm and pulls me out of the way onto the side of a building.

I stare off in a daze."Yes, you want to seduce. Edward, awwwwww, this is great."

He looks at me as though I have lost my mind, but I am so happy I have the key for him.

"You will have people lined up to take your tour. You will need to make appointments. I swear it can happen with this idea, Edward." I beam.

"You really think this will work?" he asks.

"Yes, not only will it work, but it's different. You are the only two-seater carriage. People will fall in love with the character. Who doesn't like a swashbuckling pirate? It's romantic as fuck! Isn't that what you want?"

And he stares at me. "I don't know if I can do it."

"Of course, you can. Let me say this, again. You have all the information. Instead of informing your customers about the history, you'll have them relive it through your Jean Lafitte; making it more exciting, telling Jean's tales in a French accent and speaking French, too. Oy, I'm getting a hot flash here!" I wave my hand over my face.

Edward laughs.

I smile. "See? Edward, you can do this."

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX**

We schlep into three more stores with no luck.

I call Aunt Sally, and she tells us of this costumes shop, but it's never open. Well, after a few minutes, she calls me back, telling me they are opening up for us. Something about Richard and how they owe him a favor. I sigh. _Thank you, Dick!_ I smile to myself.

Edward and I head to the shop. The overhead bell rings as we walk through the door. There are tutus of every color with sequins and glitter, sticking out from the ornate, spiral carved spindles of dark wood from the upper story staircase. We see every costume you can imagine with accessories and props. Masks and clown faces, wigs and mannequins that clutter the walkway. Feathered headpieces of all shapes and sizes and colors hang on the walls. You don't know where to look first.

There are two, long, glass, display counters on each side of the store; one with bracelets, rings, necklaces, brooches, earrings and appliques intertwined in a huge pile behind the glass. And the other, there are replicas of samurai swords, knives, pistols and other weaponry. On both countertops, there are stacks of different kinds of hats, feathered boas and belts.

A very petite, older lady slowly walks down the aisle, wearing her snow, white hair in a bun close to her neck with small curls embracing her face and cheeks. Her facial makeup is light, but her cheeks and lips are a bright, shiny red.

She hunches a bit forward and clutches her crooked cane, as she walks in our direction. Sliding her feet across the wooden floor, she pulls on her drab, gray cardigan across her waist.

She lifts her head, gives a slight smile and softly sings, "Welcome."

Edward and I walk up the aisle to her. As she slowly begins to sit on a throne of red-velvet, we both quickly grabs her arms and help her to easily sit.

"Thank you, children," she barely whispers. "Please, sit," she directs, nodding to a bench to the side of her throne.

"Now, what can I do for you? Sally said this was of dire importance." She smiles sweetly.

I look at Edward, and he nods for me to speak. "We want to create a Jean Lafitte costume for Edward. Ah, this is Edward Cullen and I'm Bella Swan." I smile.

She nods her head. "I know, and I'm Evelyn St. Vincent LaCroix Dykes-Johnson." She proudly announces.

My eyes go wide. "You're Richard's mom?" I ask.

"Yes, and apparently I owe him something for him to beg me to open the shop for you." She laughs.

Edward thanks her and asks, "Is it possible you might have anything to depict the clothing of that era?"

"If I don't have it, Edward, you won't find it anywhere else!" she smugly responds.

Well, Richard's mom, Miss Evie, is the answer to my prayer. She rummages through racks of clothing, pulling out a pair of gray, fitted pants, a navy-wool jacket with large lapels, a white, cotton shirt, thin tie and heavy leather, black boots. But the piece of clothing that will enhance Edward's charm as Jean Lafitte is a black, wide brim, gambler hat. I can't wait to see Edward in this.

Miss Evie leads Edward to the back of the shop, as I remain on the bench. He goes behind a curtain, as Miss Evie takes a grope of Edward's ass. I hear him yelp, and she laughs. "Nice buns, Edward. If I only I was younger."

She walks back to me and blushes. "Sorry, my dear, I couldn't help myself. I certainly hope you are tapping that."

How do I answer that? I don't … I just smile.

Moments later, Edward emerges in full costume. The pants fit like a glove, and there is more to him I didn't think about. His thighs and calf muscles tighten with each step he takes towards me. I inhale a small breath. _Is it warm in here?_

The coat shows his broad shoulders and narrows to his slim waist. My eyes don't know where to look first.

_I feel a bit faint._

But the hat.

It's sexy and dangerous and gives him the persona of mystery. Edward tilts his head down and lifts the brim, and I see his eyes, really see his eyes. He looks at me in wonderment and trepidation.

He clears his throat, takes the hat off, holding it in both his hands, rolling it around, as nervously asks, "Well, what do you think?"

I regain my senses and smile. "You have the potential to look very handsome."

The disappointment shows on his face. "Potential?"

"Well, you look good from the neck down." I smile and fidget with my fingers. "Edward, you need a shave. I don't think they had that mountain man look in the eighteen hundreds. And we do need to do something with your hair."

He bends to my ear and whispers, "Your honesty is refreshing, Ms. Swan."

I stare at his ass and gulp. "Are you being sarcastic?"

"Pretty much, Bella." He sits next to me. "This is ridiculous. People will think I'm nuts."

I still stare at him and plead, "Please, don't."

He looks up at me.

"I know this will work." I scratch his beard and smirk. "You are rather cute under all that fuzz."

"Such a flatterer after you shot me down," he mumbles.

I bite the inside of my cheek. "I don't always have a filter."

He pulls at my cheek. "No kidding!"

I sweep my fingers over his lengthy hair to see his eyes. He sits close. "Just a shaping, and your hair will be perfect. You'll see."

He smiles. "You promise?"

I sit up straight. "Yeah, I promise."

He leans close. "I'm going to hold you to that."

We are nose to nose … so close.

With my eyes wide, I hold my breath. Edward kisses my forehead; lingering for a few seconds. "Thank you."

His eyes fix on my lips, and I barely blurt out, "You're welcome."

Miss Evie hobbles down the aisle and shouts, "Well?"

We both jump and pull away from one another.

Edward stands and helps Miss Evie to her throne. "I think this will work," He says while looking at me.

Miss Evie sits there and stares at Edward and, then at me.

"Oh, I know it will work."

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX**

And what do you think Miss Evie truly meant by that statement? How did you feel about her little groping?

Bella and Edward were getting really close. I know, I know. We will still have to wait for that first kiss, and his makeover.

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX**

A/N: Thank you to my Beta, Sunflower Fran. I appreciate her time, her proper grammar and quick pen. Another great find by PAD!

To Robseve and Postapocalypticdepository (PAD), my pre-readers that give their unselfish time and creative input. Both of these ladies are inspirations and true friends.

Now, let me rec Postapocalypticdepository stories, since she so graciously rec'd mine.

Never Judge by the Cover: 9056924

Boys Will Be: 8868006

Rude Awakenings: 8876785

It's a New Dawn, It's a New Year: 8862243 (complete)

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX**

And thank you to all the readers, whether you review or not. I enjoy every comment and suggestion. Yes, NOLA (New Orleans, LA) is an exciting place to live. And to combine the old world with the new is a challenge, but the humor is quite a serious business. My objective is for all of you to smile, after each chapter.

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX**

Next up: EPOV


	13. Chapter 13

Under My Nose

Edward Cullen sets a deadline of six months to find his true love, before he turns thirty. Leaving his successful restaurant to drive a mule-drawn carriage in the French Quarter of New Orleans, he searches for the meaning of true love, because he has yet to understand it. Will he know when he finds her or will she be right under his nose? Can bubbly, buxom Bella tantalize his taste buds with beignets and an abundant

booty?

Chapter Thirteen:

EPOV: January 3

With a chuckle and a sore ass, _that old lady has one hell of a grip_, I sit in the dressing room on a pile of cardboard boxes, trying to collect my raging thoughts.

… Miss Evie's timing ...

I would have ...

I shake my head and pace in the tiny, cluttered space of boxes and costumes. I stop and see my reflection in the floor-length mirror. I'm a boy in a man's body; not knowing what to do; insecure and lost for the first time in my life.

I run my hands through my hair, scrub my fingers over my face and beard and lean my elbows on my thighs.

As I close my eyes.

I think about how I want to feel her lips and outline her pout with my fingertips. The curve of her bow, the roundness of the bottom, and when she bites her inside cheek, her lips puff out. It takes my breath away. Fucking, cheesy statement, but true nonetheless.

I like her curves.

I like that she enjoys every bite of food and doesn't pretend about eating heartily, how she stuffs food into my mouth to share the excitement of a taste, and allows me to do the same.

I ramble in my head.

She didn't object to being my woman, but she did say 'I'm no one's woman' and I can't get that thought out of my head. But does she want to be? She does have fun with me whenever we're together.

It confuses the fuck out of me.

I call Jasper.

"Hey, you got a minute," I whisper into my phone.

"Why are you whispering? I can barely hear you," Jasper answers.

I talk a little louder. "Look, I'm in a fucking, dressing room, and I can't talk long or loud. Bella is waiting for me."

He begins to whisper. "What's up, man?"

I ask, "Why are you whispering?"

"The fuck I know. You whispered, so I did. What's going on?" He laughs.

"Jazz, I'm confused," I moan. "I almost kissed her."

"Who?" he questions.

I still whisper, but louder, "Bella. I almost kissed Bella."

Jazz chuckles. "And why didn't you?"

"Because she doesn't fucking want me to," I shout, then check myself.

"Did she tell you that, Edward?" he awkwardly questions.

"No, but she told Emmett.!" I whisper-shout. "You heard her."

"Man, you are so fucked up. Edward, you've kissed a million girls and you can't figure it out if Bella wants you."

"Yeah, and all of the others expected it. She's different," I whisper-shout.

"How is _she _different?" he taunts me.

"She doesn't fucking come on to me, Jazz, I told you that. She's not into me. I'm only a friend," I rant. "I walk out of the dressing room looking pretty sharp, and she tells me I have potential. A woman who wants you doesn't say you have fucking potential!"

He sighs. "Look, Edward, just kiss her. When you get another opportunity just kiss her, don't fucking think about it, don't fucking hesitate, just do it. If she doesn't want you to do it again, she'll tell you, simple as that."

I hear Alice in the background. "Edward, stop being a coward and kiss the girl. You won't regret it."

"But will she?" I ask.

Alice gets on the phone.

"When did you become such a pussy? God, Edward, what happened to you? Did you lose your balls somewhere? Did Julia kick them off? You've never acted this way with any other women."

And I react.

"She's not like any other woman. I like her, Alice, and I can't stop thinking about her."

And I hear the giggle. "About damn time you admit it."

"It hasn't been that long, Alice." I defend.

"Oh, Edward, attraction knows no time and you _know_ that!" She squeaks, "And you admitted it."

"You did that on purpose! You bated me." I admonish.

"Well, it worked!" she sounds satisfied with herself. "Edward, will you just relax. I'm telling you she will want you to kiss her."

"Do I kiss her or _kiss_ her, Alice?" I plead.

"Oh dear God, Edward … why don't you just seize the moment, if it feels right to _kiss _her, then _kiss_ her." Alice is hysterically laughing. "I swear, you are a mess."

"And you're happy about this?" I gripe.

"I'm thrilled. And once you get your head out of your ass, no pun intended, you will be, too." She continues to laugh. "Oh, that was a good one." She hoots.

I pace the room in circles. "Bye, Alice. I'll call you guys later."

I slip my cell into my jeans pocket and exit the dressing room with the clothes in my hands to find Bella and Miss Evie with their heads together.

Miss Evie has a large shopping bag on her lap. "Let's put all of your things in here, Edward." She hands the bag to me, and I stuff the clothes into it.

"What do I owe you, Miss Evie?" I take out my wallet from my back pocket.

"Not a thing." She slowly gets up from her throne. "And if you need anything else, just let me know." She winks at Bella. "Let yourselves out, kids, and turn the closed sign around. Would you, please?" She is already near the back, and we hear her giggle, "Tap. Tap. Tap."

Bella shakes her head, stands and smiles at me. "Okay, now let's see what Aunt Sally can make of all of this." She walks towards the door and I quietly follow.

The whole time I'm in Aunt Sally's bathroom changing into the costume, I think seriously of stripping naked and crawling into her tub. I think about Bella with me and my thoughts shatter, when, from the other side of the door, Aunt Sally shouts, "C'mon, Edward, stop eyeing my tub and get out here!"

I have to chuckle to myself as I walk out into the craft room. Aunt Sally has a tape measure around her neck and pins in her mouth.

"Okay, Edward, get up on the stool so Bella can take in your pants." Bella sits on the floor with her legs around each side of the stool. She wiggles her eyebrows and pats the step.

I quickly walk to her, jump up on the stool and stand cautiously. Bella has pins; sharp, long pins with some hanging from her mouth.

She begins to pin the inseam of my pants, starting from my knees up. The closer she gets to my crotch, the more I fidget. I think it's the fact that she is now on her knees and my mind wanders.

I blow out a long breath.

"Edward, if you don't want me to stick you, you have to stand still." Bella looks up at me from the floor.

I picture Miss Evie's face over Bella's to stop the growing ache from the pit of my stomach to my groin.

She stands and gives instructions, "When you take the pants off, please, be careful of the pins." She giggles. "I wouldn't want you to pop anything."

My eyes widen and she gives me a playful smirk.

Two hours of pinning, adjusting and sewing, and I stand on the stool again as Aunt Sally and Bella assess my appearance. I am wearing black, tight, stretch pants with knee high black boots. A white shirt, black, thin tie with a black, wool, over jacket that has wide lapels, and knee-high length tails; all fit me like a glove.

Aunt Sally grabs the gambler's hat. "Edward, put this on, too."

She stares up at me with her arms across her chest and walks back and forth, inspecting my front and back. "If I say so myself, I did a hell of a job. Edward, you look damn sexy!"

I smile at her. "Thanks Aunt Sally." I stare at Bella who doesn't flinch a muscle or give any impression of her feelings. "What do you think, Bella?"

"I think I want to trim your beard, and then I'll tell you," she dazedley mumbles.

I don't want to press the issue, because it looks as though I'm fishing for a compliment. Jesus, she could give me some kind of encouragement. This is her idea.

Aunt Sally hurries out of the room to the front door. "I'll be back in a few hours. Richard and I have some shopping to do. And Edward, you look amazing. Bella, be careful with that razor!"

Once I change back into my street clothes, I open the door to the bathroom to find Bella with pictures, an electric and straight razor in hand, and a white T-shirt over her shoulder.

"Oh, I'm sorry; I should have told you to keep your sweater off." She lays the razors on the counter. "I also brought you a T-shirt, so as not to get hair all over you."

"Thanks." I pull my sweater over my head, along with an undershirt and lay them over the tub.

I think I hear Bella gasp, but when I pull the T-shirt down, she's looking in the other direction.

She softly explains, "I used to trim my dad's mustache all the time. He hated barbers." She smiles. "I won't cut your throat, if you're worried."

"I'm not." I sit on the john.

She hands me the pictures and plugs the razor into the wall socket. " Do you want to keep any of the beard?"

I think out loud. "Well, since I am going to be Jean Lafitte, I guess we lose the beard and do a mustache."

"There are a few photos with a thick mustache, a handlebar and a mustache with a goatee," she lists.

I look at the images. "Just a mustache no handlebar?"

"Good choice." She nods. "Okay, I'm going to use the electric razor to thin, and take the bulk of your beard off. Then, I'll use the straight razor."

I sit up for her.

"Can you spread your legs, Edward?" she asks.

I start to chuckle. "I thought you were shaving my face?"

She smirks. "Smart ass!"

She stands between my legs, lifts my face up and runs the razor up my neck to my chin. She does this a few times and asks if she's hurting me and I say 'no'.

Bella gently smooths the skin under my neck with her hand, feeling for any hair, and continues to shave the area.

Her expression is serious and concentrative; her eyes never move from my neck. "Do you object to long sideburns?" she asks.

I shrug. "You know the look better than me."

She brings the razor down on my right side and shears the hair from my ear to jawline. Again, she runs her hand over my skin giving me chills from her touch. I show no expression, but my eyes never leave her face and my heart races.

We still don't talk. Bella is lost in her task, and I take in every bit of her creamy skin.

She shakes a can of shaving cream, loads her hand with the foam and spreads it all over the shaved skin. The coolness tingles and I focus on her lips.

She finally looks me in the eyes. "Edward, you need to stay very still, okay? I don't want to cut you."

I can't speak, so I nod.

The razor lightly touches my skin, and I hear the movement like sandpaper dragging across a rough surface. Bella repeats this a few times, until the area is bare and smooth. This time she puts down the razor, exhales a long breath, takes both hands and runs them over my skin. The sensation is like fire and ice, sexual, yet caring. My heart rate quickens as she runs her fingers through my hair, examining the length.

_I want her to scratch it and get lost in her touch._

Bella whispers above my eyes, "I think we don't need to take too much off, Edward." She reaches around and runs her fingers at the nape of my neck. "And it's really long enough for a ponytail. I'm just going to trim a little on the top and sides, give it some shape and get it out of your eyes."

Once she snips a few hairs, here and there, she smiles. "Done!"

Her eyes meet mine, and I don't hesitate, drawing her near and wrapping my arms around her waist, I look for some kind of acceptance. There is no resistance, so I gently kiss her soft lips.

I lean back pulling her closer to me. My lips linger on hers, and I peck again. She drops the scissors and comb and her arms wrap around my shoulders with her fingers through the back of my hair. She lightly scratches my scalp and her sigh sends me over the fucking edge, and I grab her tighter, crushing her closer to me, deepening the kiss.

Shockwaves surge through me and I run my tongue over her bottom lip.

My hands reach for hers, and move them around my waist, while I cup her face brushing her hair to the side and kissing her neck as I take in her warmth.

With my hands in her hair, I tilt her head up and kiss her forehead, opening my eyes to hers and smiling. She smiles back and with it her face lights up.

Still no words.

Not a sound.

I tug her hair back and to the side to crash my mouth to her waiting lips. This isn't gentle; it's feral, sexual and fucking intense.

It still isn't enough.

I want more and move her closer to me, but Bella pulls away and backs up. The look on her face as she wipes her mouth with her hand is pale, and shaken.

She exits the bathroom, and I follow.

"Bella." I whisper in my head, "What the fuck?"

She says nothing and quickly walks into her room.

I grab her upper arm, turning her to face me and softly whisper, "Bella."

She looks up at me. "I can't do this," she shakily mumbles and looks down. "You're too beautiful." And I feel the shock of her words runs coldly through my veins.

My looks are my detriment. Women always want me, but her words are not ones of desire. She's not venomous, she is just making a statement, but words cut me like a knife.

"Edward, I'm sorry." She barely speaks. "This can't happen."

"Bella, I kissed you." I plead with her. "You kissed me back."

She paces and with a small stutter, "I-I-I know." And she bites the inside of her cheek. "I know I kissed you back." She takes a deep breath, running a hand through her hair.

I slowly approach and stand in front of her. "I can't stop thinking about you." I gently placed my hands on her upper arms. Her head is down, and I reach for her chin to lift her face. "Did you hear what I said?"

She shakes her head and looks into my eyes, back and forth. "Don't think of me. This is too much, too soon."

I defend. "Alice says that attraction knows no time."

"I don't think you believe that, Edward. You want something, but you don't know what that is," she quickly blurts out. "I just happen to be here."

"No, it's not that. I know I enjoy being with you, and I know I want to know more about you. Isn't that a start?" I plead.

"But for what? Am I your entertainment?" She snaps.

"Entertainment? Is that what you fucking think?" I spit.

"What am I to think, Edward? You … You… Never mind."

I stare at her in disbelief. "What about me? What were you fucking going to say, Bella?"

"I don't know how to say this." She waves her hands around.

"Just say it; I'm not going to judge you!" I bitterly snap.

"But I'm judging you, Edward." She bites the inside of her cheek, paces and turns to me. I freeze from her stare and a very long silence.

"You are a strikingly handsome man, who up to a few minutes ago looked like a homeless person and my question is why? I don't understand why you would underplay your looks." She swallows hard and continues. "I see. I know you like me." She laughs. "Everyone likes me. But I don't know what you really want and where you want to go with this." She gestures from herself to me.

I quietly admit, "I don't know what we have between us, Bella. I'm not sure of anything anymore. Women have always been there, Bella. Women who want me for all the wrong reasons." I pace. "I don't want someone who hangs on me or my every word because they think I'm a trophy to be won." My anxiety pushes me to say, "I don't know what you think of me because you don't run after me like so many others do."

She looks at me with such sadness. "I'm sorry. I could never think that way. It's hard to imagine." She blinks. "I don't chase after men."

"It's taking every fucking ounce of me to keep my distance from you." I groan.

She clears her throat. "Have you ever had a real relationship? I'm not talking about one-night stands or a few months with one girl, then another."

I shake my head. "No."

"Edward, do you know what love is? I mean, being in love with that all consuming, fiery passion of need and want and desire?" She pleads for an answer.

Again, I shake my head. "No."

She looks straight into my eyes. "Then, you need to ask yourself. You need to figure out what you really want."

I look around the room, and the ceiling catches my eye. I strain to focus on the paintings.

Bella blushes. "Oh, one of Aunt Sally's friends gave her the Sistine Chapel ala porn."

I move closer to Bella and look up. "Yeah, I guess so. Is she?"

"Yup, she is."

I smile. "And you sleep under that?"

"Yup, I do." She smiles. "Um, friends?"

I uncomfortably nod. "Yeah, sure, but I'd better get going."

She walks me to the door and opens it.

I start to walk out and I turn back. "So, I'll see you later?"

"Maybe, it's best I don't go to dinner tonight. Please, tell Alice and Jasper we'll get together some other time." She apologizes.

I resign myself to her rejection, feeling sick to my stomach as I reply "Okay".

I walk onto the porch and she closes the door. To get on my bike and drive away is the hardest thing I have to do. My chest is sore, and hollow, numb and painful and lost and alone.

I start the bike and I drive off.

I don't know about you guys, but I feel the same way as Edward. What the hell just happened? One moment they are in the throes of a passionate kiss and the next, the cold shoulder? Do we want to smack Bella?

A/N: Thank you to my Beta, Sunflower Fran. I appreciate her time, her proper grammar and quick pen. Another great find by PAD!

To Robseve and Postapocalypticdepository (PAD), my pre-readers that give their unselfish time and creative input. Both of these ladies are inspirations and true friends.

Now, let me rec Postapocalypticdepository stories, since she so graciously rec'd mine.

Never Judge by the Cover: 9056924

Boys Will Be: 8868006

Rude Awakenings: 8876785

It's a New Dawn, It's a New Year: 8862243 (complete)

And thank you to all the readers, whether you review or not. I enjoy every comment and suggestion. Yes, NOLA (New Orleans, LA) is an exciting place to live. And to combine the old world with the new is a challenge, but the humor is quite a serious business. My objective is for all of you to smile, after each chapter.

Next up: BPOV


	14. Chapter 14

Under My Nose

Bella Swan needs a change in pace, a slower groove to enjoy the simple pleasures life has to offer her. She moves from the Big Apple to the Big Easy, from subways to streetcars, from nouveau chic to historically quaint, from a large Manhattan apartment near Park Avenue to a shotgun house with her eccentric aunt, in Mid City and off Canal Street. She's ready for love, commitment and that happily ever after, but does she have the patience to wait out her heart's desire? It's frustrating to be right, "under his nose".

A/N: Recipes at the end.

Chapter Fourteen:

BPOV: January 3

As I close the door, I lean up against it and slide down the frame. I hear the startup of Edward's roaring engine, and as he turns the corner onto Canal Street, I hear the fade of the Harley's rumble in the distance. He couldn't get out of here fast enough.

I'm too numb to cry, although I ache all over from our 'disagreement'.

A man who doesn't know what he wants, and doesn't know that love is a walking heartbreak; a disaster waiting to happen.

I think I'll bake.

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX**

Hours later, three batches of chocolate chip cookies, two pans of brownies and a chocolate, cherry, pineapple upside down cake make the house smell delicious. And I can't eat a thing.

I lay on my bed, in the dark, looking up at nothing. If I have the light on, I will see penises and I'll think of Edward. Yeah, I still have him on my mind.

The front door opens, and I can hear Aunt Sally with Richard coming into the house. Rooms become lit. "Bella, are you home?"

Silence.

I hear her whisper to Richard rather loudly. "She's been baking. She's either bored or upset." She shouts again, "Bella?"

I wistfully moan, "I'm here."

My light goes on; my arms go up to shield my eyes, the bed bounces, and Aunt Sally wraps herself around me.

"Oh, JujuBee, are you alright?" She whispers into my ear, holding me tight, nuzzling her head into the crick of my neck, breathing heavily on my skin and moaning; 'It's alright. It's alright, my little JujuBee'.

I sigh. "I'm fine, you nut job. Would you lplease unwrap yourself from me, I'm suffocating."

Richard walks past my room. "Hey Richard."

"I was trying to sneak by and give you two a girly moment." He smiles apologetically. He has some great teeth.

"No, no, that's fine. I'd actually like to pick your man brain." I sit up taking Aunt Sally and her death grip with me.

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX**

Aunt Sally, Richard and I sit at the dining room table surrounded by a feast of sweets. With a cup of hot tea in hand, I watch my aunt stuff another brownie into her mouth as Richard stares in utter amazement and joy. He turns to look at me and defends her, "They are rather good, Bella."

I shoot him a grin and ramble, "I would think after her sixth one, they are!"

"She does have a chocolate thing," he defends again and takes a long sip of his coffee.

Aunt Sally looks at the both of us. "I am right here, you know." She swallows down a bite. "I eat when I'm upset."

"What are you upset about?" I ask.

She reaches out and grabs my hand and dramatically pines, "Oh JujuBee, I'm upset about you and Edward."

I quip, "There is no me and Edward."

"There could be," she spits out. "He basically professed his love for you."

I ignore her and look at Richard. "He _professed_ nothing. Where in all that I explained that Edward said he loved me?"

Richard puts his cup down and clears his throat. "Bella, that boy does have eyes for you."

I grumble, "I'm a 'filler', until he gets his act together."

Aunt Sally whines, "Why would you say that?"

I glare at her. "I say that, because it's the truth. Pretty boys think I'm cute, funny and entertaining," I huff. "And when something better comes along, they leave." I cross my arms over my chest and sing, "Been there, done that."

"How did you get so cynical, JujuBee? Just because that Mark whatever-his-name-was bolted like a jack rabbit doesn't mean Edward is like that!" she scolds and grabs for another brownie.

I sigh. "No, it's not that. I just find that good looking men want supermodel partners."

Richard adds, "Bella, you are a beautiful girl."

I smile at him. _Ah, Dick, you are a sweet man._ "Richard, I know that, but most men don't. I'm not wasting my time on a clueless fool."

"How can you say that? He told you he couldn't stop thinking about you. Apparently, he gets something!" Aunt Sally rants. "Who's the clueless one? I don't know, but when a man kisses me …" She smiles broadly at Richard. "And gets a hard-on, I'd say he's attracted and wants me."

I rant back, "Aunt Sally, it doesn't take a male dog a second to get a hard-on. Men are animals." I turn to Richard. "No offense."

He smiles at me. "None taken."

"He's never been in love, or in a committed relationship, Aunt Sally!" I grab a brownie, pick at it and throw it on my empty plate.

She scolds me, "Don't waste that! I don't understand you, I really don't. You were both getting along famously, until you shaved him. Well, after you shaved him …" She giggles. "You both had a pretty intense kiss. What made you decide to run like a scared little girl?"

"That's the kettle calling the pot black!" I snap.

"You mean, the pot calling the kettle black?" I get the eyebrow raise. I shoot her a 'whatever'. "I know I ran away from Richard at first, but he came and got me." They both smile at one another.

'Whatever! He's pretty' and pick up the brownie and take a nibble.

"It's the first time in twenty-seven years I want to smack you silly!" She's on the verge of tears and takes a slow breath. "Bella, didn't his friend, Alice, tell you to not to give up on him, and that he hasn't been dating? Yeah, I do pay attention when you talk with me."

"It doesn't mean he wants a relationship." I shoot at her.

"But does it mean he doesn't?" She shoots back.

"I think, if you don't mind me saying…" Richard timidly pleads with me.

I nod. "Go ahead."

"You need to talk with him. Nothing gets solved by backing away and not discussing the issue. Communication is important in a relationship." He reaches over, pats my hand and stands. "I've got to get going, but please think about what I said." He kisses Aunt Sally on the head. "I'll be back later."

Aunt Sally grabs his hand and kisses it. "I'll heat the oil."

I disgustingly groan, "TMI!"

"He's going to go workout. I massage his back after," she explains. "For God sake, get your mind out of the gutter, young lady!"

I shrug. "Sorry." As I roll my eyes.

"Now, get yourself all prettied up and go see him!" Richard shakes a finger at me.

I bite the inside of my cheek.

Aunt Sally orders, "Don't just sit there. Go!"

I start to pick up the plates.

"Go, I'll take care of that!" She gives me a smirk. "And take him some cookies and brownies!"

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX**

The streetcar seems to slowly creep its way down Canal Street. I think I could run faster, or maybe it's the fact that I can't get to the French Quarter fast enough.

When I do finally get there, I see no Edward, no carriage or Julia. Garrett is out on a ride. I ask the other drivers and they haven't seen him either. I don't know where to look and I'm too proud to call him.

After walking around the square a few times, I look at my phone and it's a little past ten. It's bitter cold and I breathe the freezing air through my lungs. I deserve the burn, but bundle myself up with a scarf around my head and shoulders. Aunt Sally wouldn't allow me out of the house without it, and the matching gloves. I'm glad she insisted.

Slowly, I make my way to the fence on the Square and sit on the stone edge and lean back into the wrought iron, trying to talk myself into calling Edward.

I look at the few carriage drivers in line, waiting for customers and long for Julia; Edward.

With my eyes closed, I don't hear anyone approach me. The wind rears up a strong howl and I think I hear my name. I look up into the saddest green eyes on the most handsome face I have ever seen.

"Hey." He barely gets out.

"Hey," I squeak. I clear my throat. "You're not working."

"No, my heart wasn't in it." He gestures to sit and I nod.

"You're not working, either?" He sits next to me ... very close. "I looked for you at Cafe du Monde."

"Someone screwed up the schedule, but my heart wasn't in it." I shrug and give him a coy smile.

We both speak our names and, being the gentleman, Edward allows me to speak first.

"I owe you an apology." I humph. "You've been nothing but nice to me."

"Bella, stop." He takes both of my hands in his.

I'm afraid to look at him, so I do a side glance. "Edward, I was unfair." I mumble, "I'm sorry."

"No, you were right. I don't have a fucking clue about what to do. I've never had a steady girlfriend. I've never felt obsessed over a woman. I'm usually repelled by the attention. I've never wanted to spend time with anyone … other than you."

I try to speak, but he stops me. "Bella, I went to the stables and Julia backed away from me." He shakes his head. "She usually listens to my ramblings. I mentioned your name, and she pushed me with her head. She didn't want me around with the mood I was in, so I went to Alice and Jasper's. Alice kicked my fucking ass. They both told me to grow a fucking set and level with you." He rubs the tops of my knuckles and lifts them to his mouth for a light kiss.

My mouth drops open as I watch him kiss my hands. God, I hope I don't drool on him.

He looks up at me through his long, dark lashes. My mouth still hangs open and he closes it with his index finger.

I shake my head and giggle. "It's too cold for flies."

And he smiles. I can hear angel voices breaking into a high note and a halo spreading over his head. Now, if he sprouts wings, I am in serious trouble.

With his index finger still on my chin, he draws my head up and very gently kisses my lips. "I'd like to continue what I started in the bathroom."

He pecks me a few times, and then goes in for the kill. Oh my God, I hear the whole freaking choir.

Edward runs his hands through my hair. One hand wraps around the back of my neck, while the other caresses my jaw. "Don't run from me, Bella." Kiss. "I will chase you." Kiss. He looks me straight in the eyes. "I'm really going to kiss you, now." He smiles. "Can I?"

I nod. I have no ability for speech or thought.

He captures my bottom lip in a small bite and then his mouth full on mine, and the angels burst into song, fireworks explode overhead, and I remember I have cookies in my purse. What? You don't think of food at a time like this?'

He still kisses me, as I speak between pecks, "I brought you cookies and brownies."

He groans. "Why are you always trying to feed me?" He rests his forehead on mine, and I get a wisp of a kiss on my nose.

A little smart Alec plays with me, and I taunt him. "Haven't you heard the way to a man's heart is through his stomach."

He smiles playfully. "I have heard that. And speaking of food, I need to take you somewhere." He stands and reaches his hand out to mine. "C'mon, let's go."

I whine, "Hmm, already you're getting bossy. Where are we going?"

He leads me to the parking lot, holding my hand. We see Garrett riding back into the mule line with a full carriage. We wave and he tips his hat with a huge smile.

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX**

At this hour, traffic is minimal, and we practically make every green light. Edward pulls into a small parking lot and slowly heads toward a wide, back door with a ramp. He revs his engine and the Harley roars. Within seconds, Jasper opens the door and we ride into an alcove.

I hop off of the bike with Jasper's help and he crushes me into a tight hug and whispers into my ear, "It's good to see you."

Once I let go and straighten out my jacket, I awkwardly mutter a 'thanks'.

Edward once again grabs for my hand and we enter through a restaurant kitchen. My eyes flitter around the spanking clean, stainless steel surroundings. Yeah, I know my way around a place like this.

We pass through stainless steel, swing doors into a warm, inviting, dining room area. I stop, let go of Edward's hand and take it all in.

In the corner is a small, baby grand piano. I walk over and lightly touch the keys. I look up at Edward, as he watches me with a curious expression.

I walk around the piano. "Nice place."

Jasper whispers to Edward, patting him on the shoulder before giving me a small wave and then exiting the room.

Edward walks to the piano and sits at the bench and tickles the ivories with "Moonlight Sonata".

I lean on the piano and watch his fingers nimbly move from one key to the next. He softens his touch, as he speaks, "I used to love to play, but this is the first time in months that I wanted to play for someone." I curiously listen. "This is my restaurant, Bella." He watches me intently. "I am a chef."

I bite the inside of my cheek and Edward leans up to pinch my teeth clear. "You're going to chew your face off from the inside."

I don't say anything. I just watch him sit back down and play 'Hey Jude'. Then, he sings:

"_Hey Jude, don't be afraid_

_You were made to go out and get her_

_The minute you let her under your skin_

_Then you begin to make it better."_

He fades off and looks up at me. "My apartment is upstairs; would you like to see it?"

I nod.

It's not easy to talk while processing the restaurant, the chef and 'Hey Jude'.

Edward stands and pushes the bench back, reaches for my hand and I follow him through the kitchen, back into the alcove and up a flight of stairs.

He pulls his keys out of his front pocket, unlocks the door and gestures for me to walk in first.

I stand to one side as he turns on a light. Again, I scope out my surroundings; highly male and full of testosterone. He has a huge flat screen. I smile.

Edward watches and questions me, "What?"

I point to the flat screen. "Bet you watch a lot of sports on that thing!"

With a low chuckle, he grins. "Yeah, I guess I do."

He takes my jacket and hangs it on the hall tree with his. Offers me a glass of wine and asks if I'm hungry.

We both carry a goblet of wine as I get the grand tour. When we walk into Edward's bedroom, I take in his bed. "It's pretty big."

He stands next to me. "I'm a tall guy."

I look up at him. "Hmm, you are."

"I want to show you something."

My mind goes in many directions as to what he wants to show me, but he guides me through a small hallway, and flips on the light.

I just stare.

Seems as if it's a night of silence for me; so much to absorb. Yet, after seeing this shower, I think I've dummied up completely.

Edward bears his soul; letting me in, opening his life, his work and his home.

We stand in his shower, as he points out all the gadgets and functions. His exuberance over a light fixture and overhead jets overwhelms with guilt. And before I realize what I am doing, I quickly blurt out, "I'm a pastry chef!"

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX**

Well, a little disagreement lead to confessions. Now, let's see what Edward thinks about Bella's little admission in chapter 15.

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX**

A/N: Thank you to my Beta, Sunflower Fran. I appreciate her time, her proper grammar and quick pen. Another great find by PAD!

To Robseve and Postapocalypticdepository (PAD), my pre-readers that give their unselfish time and creative input. Both of these ladies are inspirations and true friends.

Now, let me rec Postapocalypticdepository stories, since she so graciously rec'd mine.

Never Judge by the Cover: 9056924

Boys Will Be: 8868006

Rude Awakenings: 8876785

It's a New Dawn, It's a New Year: 8862243 (complete)

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX**

And thank you to all the readers, whether you review or not. I enjoy every comment and suggestion. Yes, NOLA (New Orleans, LA) is an exciting place to live. And to combine the old world with the new is a challenge, but the humor is quite a serious business. My objective is for all of you to smile, after each chapter.

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX**

**Recipes**

**Chocolate chip cookies**

1 Cup butter flavored Crisco

¾ Cup brown sugar, packed into cup

¾ Cup granulated sugar

2 Tablespoon Nutella

2 eggs, beaten

1 Cup nuts

1 large bag chocolate chips

1 teaspoon vanilla

2 ½ cups all-purpose flour

2 teaspoons baking powder

¼ teaspoon salt

Cream shortening with sugars. Add eggs, Nutella & blend. Add vanilla, nuts & chips. Blend together with all dry ingredients. Drop onto cookie sheet; greased or lined with parchment paper . Bake at 350 F about 15 mins. Still very soft for chewy. If you want them harder, bake for 20 mins.

yield: 4 dozen small cookies

**Brownies**

¾ Cup sifted all-purpose flour

½ teaspoon baking powder

½ teaspoon salt

2 squares (2 oz.) unsweetened chocolate

⅓ Cup shortening

1 Cup sugar

2 eggs

½ Cup nuts (opt.)

Sift all dry ingredients. Melt chocolate and shortening over hot water and beat in sugar and eggs. Add dry ingredients and mix thoroughly.

In a well-greased pan (8X8X2), spread mixture evenly. Bake at 350 F for 30-35 mins. yield: 16 2" squares.

**Chocolate, Pineapple, Cherry Upside Down Cake**

Basic chocolate cake:

2 Cups sifted cake flour

3 teaspoons baking powder

¼ teaspoon salt

½ teaspoon baking soda

½ Cup butter

1 Cup sugar

2 eggs, separated

3 ounces chocolate squares (melted)

1 ¼ Cups milk

1 teaspoon vanilla

½ Cup brown sugar

¼ Cup Cocoa

Pineapple slices

Maraschino cherries

Milk chocolate chips

Sift all dry ingredients. Cream butter (gradually), until very smooth and add sugar, creaming until light and fluffy. Add beaten egg yolks. Nix. Add melted chocolate. Mix. Add milk alternately with dry ingredients. Beat until smooth with each addition. Beat for 2 full mins. or 300 in vanilla and stiff egg whites.

I 13 pan. line with parchment paper and spray with Pam spray.

Sprinkle brown sugar and cocoa on bottom of pan. Arrange pineapple, chocolate chips and cherries over sugar and cocoa. Pour in cake mixture.

Bake 375 30 - 40 mins. Let cool for a few minutes. Drop cake onto large platter.

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX**

Next up: EPOV


	15. Chapter 15

Under My Nose

Edward Cullen sets a deadline of six months to find his true love, before he turns thirty. Leaving his successful restaurant to drive a mule-drawn carriage in the French Quarter of New Orleans, he searches for the meaning of true love, because he has yet to understand it. Will he know when he finds her or will she be right under his nose? Can bubbly, buxom Bella tantalize his taste buds with beignets and an abundant

booty?

Chapter Fifteen:

EPOV: January 4

We're in the middle of my shower stall and Bella blurts out she's a pastry chef. I'm a little heady from her confession, and I look dead into her eyes. "For real, a pastry chef?"

She nods her head and bites the inside of her cheek. I pull her cheek lose, wrapping one hand over her jaw, cupping the back of her head with the other and looking her straight in the eye.

I have no control.

I don't want control.

I bend to greet her luscious lips with mine and kiss her mouth, her nose, her cheeks, around her jawline, moaning her name as she continues to talk. Well, she rambles.

"Edward, I worked for Donald Trump for less than a day. My mother interfered and another chef lost his chance. No one would give me a break, and they sabotaged my desserts I created for a table of VIPS." She takes a tearful breath and kisses me back. "I was let go, but not after I reamed them a new asshole!" She kisses my neck. _That feels so good._

She breaks away, "I have no idea where she found them, but my mother constantly fixed me up with gorgeous, successful, professional men; one blind date after the next with lawyers, doctors, actors, brokers; all disappointing and pretentious." She kisses me with a swipe of her tongue over my bottom lips and pulls back again.

"After her little 'Donald stunt', I purposely bought a Harley to piss her off, which reminds me … I need to send for it. My dad had me riding since I was sixteen. So, I rode all the way to Boston to find the Biker Babes. I joined them to get the hell out of Dodge. Those women helped me to gain a backbone, self-respect and love."

She is out of breath and pants.

"I spent three weeks learning to trust myself, Edward. Most of all, I learned that a man doesn't define me; I do. And a relationship defines itself. And I want more."

I begin to kiss her, and she places her fingertips gently on my lips.

"I knew I had to leave New York. I had to put a distance between my meddling mother and myself. I need … want to do things for me."

I wrap my arms around her and kiss her with everything I have and then some. We break from the kiss, and she still continues to purge.

"When I first saw you, I loved your shabby look." She gently touches my chin and strokes my cheek. She smiles so sweetly. "You were quiet, kind of shy and not trying to impress me. I liked that. And I love Julia."

She's on a rampage.

"I love animals, and for some reason they like me. They come to me. Squirrels jump out of trees. Julia and I have some sort of bond."

I grab her face and lean in to her. "Bella, it's okay. You don't have to ..."

She interrupts me, "no, I need to tell you." She points around. "You just showed me that you want to be open with me. You brought me here and showed me your restaurant and showed me your home, and that tells me you are inviting me in and not for a one-night stand." She looks at me with a pleading face, from eye to eye.

I softly whisper, "No, no one-night stand." I stare at her lips as she goes on and on. I could listen to her all night, but I must have her. I have to touch her.

"Stop staring like that!" She turns bright red.

"Why?" I barely whisper. "I can't get enough of you."

"Well, there is plenty of me," she sarcastically giggles.

I smile and protest, "Don't you start putting yourself down!"

And she defends, "I'm not. I may not have the figure of a fashion model, but I like me."

I draw her near. "I like you, too." I crush her up against the wall, kissing down her neck, squeezing her sides, and ravaging her lips.

Bella reaches for my hair, but the sleeve of her sweater catches the control on the wall, and freezing, cold jets of water blast us from all sides. We both shout in surprise, and I try to shield her, but her giggling makes it hard to keep a grip on her. The water begins to warm, but Bella's screeching giggles turn to hysterical laughing and we both fall to the floor, still in an embrace, clutching one another for dear life and howling like soaking wet idiots.

She giggles, "I'm so sorry." She brushes the hair out of me eyes as I do the same for her.

"You're all wet!" I smile spitting water all over her.

She taunts me with a playful voice, "Well, you got me all excited." She bites her cheek, and I pull it free.

We kiss slowly, taking in the shape of our lips, crashing our teeth, and embracing our tongues. It turns intensely passionate and overwhelmingly euphoric. I lean over her, my right arm cradling her neck, my left leg sliding between her legs and my left hand caressing her cheek. She rubs her leg up mine and hums, "You're giving me goose bumps on my lady bits."

"I hope that's good." I slide my hand down her arm and up again.

"It's very good." Her face lights up with realization. "Oh God, I must look like a raccoon with mascara all down my face!"

"That or Day of the Dead!" I take a deep breath. "Let's get out of here and get those wet things off you." I stand and reach my hand to her while I shut the shower heads off.

She looks at me stunned. "Oh, you want to get me naked, now?" She nods her head, smirking. "I see how it is."

I smile. "I didn't mean it that way, but if you want to?" I tug her to her feet and kiss her forehead. "I'm up for it."

"I'm sure you are!" She bats her eyes.

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX**

Half an hour later with the sound of the dryer echoing throughout the apartment, I sit on the edge of my bed, and with Bella on the floor with her back to me, sitting between my legs I towel dry her long hair.

She moans leaning her head back and I kiss her forehead stroking her hair. "Are you warm enough?"

"I'm fine, Edward, thank you. I'm really sorry about the shower," she deeply apologizes.

I laugh. "I'm not." I kiss her.

Once again, Emmett lets himself in, and we hear his heavy steps down the hallway. "Hey Bro, where are you?"

Bella doesn't flinch. She remains on the floor wrapped in my black, terrycloth robe, her feet crossed at the ankles, hugging my jean-clad legs with her arms. I continue to massage her hair.

Emmett stops at the door, stares at the two of us and smiles broadly. "You finally christened that beast of a shower with a gorgeous woman." He states as he shakes his head. "I'm so proud of you. To think yesterday, you were womanless and looked homeless." He takes a good look at me. "Now, that's the brother I remember."

"Fuck off!" I moan.

Emmett kneels in front of Bella. "So, the shower, huh?" He wiggles his eyebrows.

Bella leans forward and pushes him over. "It's not what you think, Emmett."

He sits up. "Hey, a naked woman with wet hair in the middle of the night wearing a man's robe only means one thing to me," he spouts. "And stop throwing me over, Bella."

"Stop jumping to conclusions!" she snaps at him.

"Not that I have to explain anything to you, but I was showing Bella the shower, and she accidentally hit the start button." I simply point out.

He laughs while getting up. "Yeah, and what were you two doing that caused Bella to trigger your jets?"

Bella and I look at one another.

"Exactly, I thought so." He smirks. "Ah, you two kids thought you could pull one over on me."

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX**

We sit at the kitchen table. I have a coffee, while Bella nurses a cup of steaming, sweet tea wearing her dried clothing. Emmett slams back a shot of tequila and grimaces.

"Bella, I have to hand it to you," he raises his shot glass, "You cleaned him up pretty good. I finally recognize him again." Emmett shoots me an approving look.

"I wasn't that bad!" I moan.

She reaches for my jaw and smoothes her hand over it. "I liked you scruffy."

"Well, now he can concentrate on his restaurant, and leave the mules to the real drivers. I can't believe your hair-brained idea worked." Emmett scoffs.

Bella questions Emmett, "What hair-brained idea are you talking about, Emmett?"

With no thought or reason, Emmett blurts out, "Edward went all hog wild, I mean mule wild, to become a driver to find himself a wife!"

Bella stares at me in disbelief. "What? You became a driver to hook up?"

I shout, "No!" I shove Emmett from across the table. "You fucking idiot, you know that wasn't the deal."

I run my hands through my hair, stand and pace. "Bella." I sigh, sit back down and grab her hands. "I fucking swear that wasn't what I was doing."

"Well, you didn't have any rides. Maybe you didn't get the chance!" she kiddingly accuses.

"She's got a point there, Edward," Emmett adds.

I angrily point at Emmett, "You, shut it!"

I look Bella in the eyes. "Bella, that was never my intention. Fuck. You came along … you were right under my nose. I never thought about the how."

She furrows her brows. "You're not making any sense."

I collect my thoughts, and I begin, "Bella, it's true I wanted to find a wife, but I never intended to use the carriage rides. I had this idea that if I saw what other couples had, I would understand a what a relationship was." I start to ramble. "No one ever made me feel as though I had to have them."

"You didn't have to feel, Bro, they were all over you!" Emmett interjects.

"That's it!" I shout at Emmett. "I didn't have to work at dating or hooking up. The women would come into the restaurant and fucking hit on me all the time."

Emmett defends me. "And Bella, I would get so damned pissed at him for running in the other direction. He never hooked up with these girls."

She looks at me and questions, "Never?"

I shake my head. "Never."

She asks, "Why not, Edward?"

"They didn't care to actually know me; if I liked to read or why I became a chef. It was all about my looks and my position. It was just empty to me."

Emmett laughs. "Believe me, Bella, I've taken every reject of Edward's out."

She seriously looks Emmett in the eyes and asks, "Why?"

"Because I could, and they all went willingly."

He sees the disapproving look on her face. "Look, I'm not interested in settling down with one woman." He points to me. "Like him. I like women, a lot of women, but I tell them upfront. I'm not a player, as some people tend to think." He gives me a disapproving face. "I have fun with no strings attached. I don't force anyone to be with me."

"Emmett, don't you find that rather shallow?" Bella leans on the table and places her chin in her hand, staring at Emmett.

"Sure, if I was playing one woman against another or simply playing. I like a good time and I show women a good time. I've spent copious amounts of moolah on dates that I plan very carefully, and we have amazing fun. I don't answer to anyone but myself, and I like it that way. And, no, I didn't have a troubled childhood. Edward and I have two great parents that raised us to be gentlemen. And I take that very seriously."

Bella just looks at him.

"Women were made to be treated with respect and care. We never heard our parents raise their voices to one another. So, if you are wondering … no, again … I don't have any hang ups about relationships. I like to be free; that's all."

"Maybe you haven't found the right one to turn your head, Emmett," Bella suggests.

"Oh, sweetheart, many of them turn my head and other things," he loudly laughs. "But to settle down?" He shakes his head. "Not my style."

Edward gets up and places his coffee cup into the sink. "Bella, don't try to figure this out. I gave up on his care-free thinking a long time ago. Emmett is fucking Emmett."

"That's right, I AM fucking Emmett, gotta love me." Emmett sings. "Okay, as much as I want to sit here a shoot the shit, I got a date."

"Are you having a sleepover party for two?" Bella giggles at Emmett.

With an extremely serious expression, Emmett ponders, "I don't think I have sleeping on the list, but we are going to party." He wiggles his eyebrows and smiles. "I plan on doing the nasty, not twiddle my thumbs like you two. And speaking of thumbs … rematch, baby … soon!"

With that, Emmett walks out of the room; his heavy steps swiftly moving down the hallway to the front door, and he yells out, "Just do it. You know you want to!"

The door slams shut.

It echoes in my head, as I look down at Bella. "Sorry about him!"

"I'm not. He's quite entertaining, and I like razzing him." She smiles up at me.

"Well, no one has ever pushed his buttons." I sigh, thinking about their thumb wrestling.

She asks, "What, why are you frowning?"

I snort. "I was thinking about the thumb wrestling."

She giggles. "It was funny. So, why do you look angry?"

I huff. "I didn't like him fucking touching you."

"He's your brother." She reassuringly runs her hand over my jaw. "It wasn't anything, but a goof. You were jealous?"

"Fuck, yeah!" I kiss her palm. "All new to me, Bella."

"Well, we have a lot to learn, Edward." She bites the inside of her cheek.

I grab it apart. "And stop doing that!"

Now, she bites her bottom lip and barely whispers. "Why?'

I draw my face closer to hers. "You're driving me crazy."

"Isn't that what I'm supposed to do?" she whines, but rolls her eyes and smiles.

"You're fucking killing me, woman." My heart races, as I close in.

Bella closes in the gap and enunciates every word. "Such ... a ... tough ... death."

And then she kisses me.

We break away very breathless and panting. I wipe the corner of her lips with my thumb. She does the same to me.

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO**

It's almost one, and we both declare we aren't tired and want to talk. I really don't want to drive her home.

She texts Aunt Sally to avoid a Bella hunt.

I text Jasper that things are fine. I know I will hear about it later, if I don't tell him, because Alice will kick my ass.

With all our bases clear, we get comfortable on one of the living room sofas, soft music plays in the background as we stretch out together.

"So, what about Julia?" she asks.

"I don't know. I mean, I really love being around her. She's a great mule and after all the work I put into getting a license, I don't want to quit."

She smiles at me. "Then, don't. I'll help you."

"You will?" I stare at her.

Bella passionately defends me. "Edward, you really have a great idea. No one else is focusing on the romantic ambiance of New Orleans. The French Quarter screams the history of swashbuckling pirates with bevies of boudoir harlots, and hidden layers of Voodoo magic of the High Priestess Marie Laveau."

I chuckle. "Do you read the fucking Roget's Thesaurus, every day?"

She slugs me in the shoulder. "Very funny."

"No, no, I get what you're saying." I agree.

"And you could incorporate your restaurant with a tour." She gets all excited and sits up. "Oh my God, you could have an evening with Jean Lafitte. This would be perfect for a unique anniversary gift." She swoons. "A couple could have a tour and then have dinner. What kinds of food do your serve?"

"True French," I answer with a smirk.

She beams. "This is perfect; you as Jean Lafitte, speaking French, cooking their meal and driving their carriage."

I taunt her. "I didn't know Jean Lafitte was that talented." She smacks me again. "But the restaurant is too far for Julia to go back and forth to the Quarter."

"I'm talking about a picnic lunch or supper from the restaurant; very romantic, with fine wine and dessert," she sings.

"Speaking of that … I have a proposition for you." I grab her hand and play with her fingers. "I need a good pastry chef."

She casually plays, "You know I have this big gig already with Cafe du Monde. I get to wear a paper hat and bowtie."

"I can throw in a paper hat and bowtie." I smile.

"Yeah, and what else can you throw in?" She bites the inside of her cheek.

I pull on it, throwing her onto her back and kissing up her neck to her mouth. "Will this do?"

"So far, it's working. What else you got?" she giggles.

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO**

So, what else does Edward have for Bella?

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO**

A/N: Thank you to my Beta, Sunflower Fran. I appreciate her time, her proper grammar and quick pen. Another great find by PAD!

To Robseve and Postapocalypticdepository (PAD), my pre-readers that give their unselfish time and creative input. Both of these ladies are inspirations and true friends.

Now, let me rec Postapocalypticdepository stories, since she so graciously rec'd mine.

Never Judge by the Cover: 9056924

Boys Will Be: 8868006

Rude Awakenings: 8876785

It's a New Dawn, It's a New Year: 8862243 (complete)

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO**

And thank you to all the readers, whether you review or not. I enjoy every comment and suggestion. Yes, NOLA (New Orleans, LA) is an exciting place to live. And to combine the old world with the new is a challenge, but the humor is quite a serious business. My objective is for all of you to smile, after each chapter.

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO**

Next up: BPOV


	16. Chapter 16

Under My Nose

Bella Swan needs a change in pace, a slower groove to enjoy the simple pleasures life has to offer her. She moves from the Big Apple to the Big Easy, from subways to streetcars, from nouveau chic to historically quaint, from a large Manhattan apartment near Park Avenue to a shotgun house with her eccentric aunt, in Mid City and off Canal Street. She's ready for love, commitment and that happily ever after, but does she have the patience to wait out her heart's desire? It's frustrating to be right, 'under his nose'.

A/N: Eight, yummy, dessert recipes at the end.

And This chapter was not edited. Please, forgive my commas.

Chapter Sixteen:

BPOV: January 5

I awake to a warm breeze on my face and a rhythmic lifting and lowering around me and to my side. A male, musky scent surrounds me and the tender touch of strong hands engulf my shoulders and waist. I can't move very easily, since I am up against the back of a sofa and a muscular leg covers my hip.

Edwards stirs and wraps himself tighter around me, burying his face under my ear. He breathes a little harder and I feel his teeth running up my neck. _Oooo, okay_.

His kisses start to travel under my jaw. My thoughts go to bad breath, but that doesn't stop Edward and I seem to forget. He's man on a mission and his hands roam my back, arms and through my hair with his lips doing a lot of talking.

I bite the inside of my cheek and, like radar, Edward pulls it loose, continuing his morning ministrations to my face. He moans, "I could get used to this."

"Not to put a damper on your roving lips, but what time is it?" I sarcastically quip.

Edward finally stops his intense, oral examination of my skin and looks up at the digital clock on the flat screen. "It's 8:15. We could continue this in my bedroom." I glare at him. "What, we would be more comfortable."

I seriously look into his eyes pleading, "Do you really want me like all the others?"

He sighs and kisses my forehead. "You're not."

"I know I'm not, but we don't even know one another's last name. I want to know you and every little thing about you." I smile and brush the back of my hand down his cheek.

Edward clear his throat, sits and stoically rambles off, "Cullen. I like to read, cook and take long walks on the Bayou. My favorite color is brown. I'm a Gemini. I believe in reincarnation. And I want to get married before I'm thirty and have a lot of kids."

I ask, "When's your thirtieth birthday?"

"In June."

"That's five months away, Edward. Rushing this ..." I wave my hand back and forth between us, "... is so romantic," I snark.

"Well, I'm trying to make this very romantic." He kisses me slowly.

I break away and look at him with surprise. Okay, I can go along with this. "Swan. I like to read and cook, too, and take long walks on the beach. My favorite color is green. I'm a twenty-seven year old Virgo. I believe in the ever-after and happily ever after. Marriage is cool. I almost did it twice. Now … how many is a lot?"

He hesitantly answers, holding up five wiggling fingers, "Five."

I slowly blow out a puff of air. "Is that negotiable?"

He smiles. "Maybe."

"Just remember, you aren't the one passing a watermelon through a teeny, tiny ya ya." I give him a cool stare and he laughs.

"You're such a fucking, ball buster!" He continues to laugh and reaches over to pull hair out of my eyes.

I straighten myself up. "If I am, you can forget about one, let alone five!"

He grabs me into a strong hug and laughs heartily. "You really make me laugh." He breaks us apart, grabs my chin and angles his face close to mine. "Bella, you make me feel good and it's not entertainment."

I scrunch up my nose. "I'm glad."

"So, you were engaged twice?" he asked very cautiously.

"Well, once at eight years old, but I took it very seriously." We both laugh. "And I almost eloped right after high school, but my mother got wind of our plans and head us off at the pass."

He clears his throat. "So, what happened?"

"Hurricane Renee struck and I was sent off to college. To spite her, I dropped out and went to culinary school. Best thing I ever did." I proudly smirk. "I'm glad I didn't get married, though."

He whispers into my ear, "Me, too." He kisses my lips slowly, running his mouth over mine, back and forth. You sure you don't want to go…"

I interrupt him. "No!"

He sighs.

"Believe me, I'm right about this." I bite my cheek and he reaches up and pulls it apart.

Edward unwraps himself from me, stands and reached a hand out, "C'mon, we got things to do, _Ms. Swan_!"

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX**

I pride myself on being a prepared girl, because I carry a large purse with essentials; toothbrush and paste, hair brush and ties, makeup, skin cream, wipes, tampons, first aid kit, BC pills, and an extra pair of panties. Well, you never know.

Edward allows me to freshen up in one of his guest rooms, when I refuse to use his shower. Somehow, the thoughts of our passionate escapades run me wild and I need to keep calm and level-headed. If this attraction is something, I will not rush anything. I will not serve myself up to be thrown up, because we ate too fast.

As Edward opens the door for me, he follows me into a sunlit room with a dark wood, four post bed. All the bedding is brown and beige with black accents. The walls are light and the floors are the same dark wood as the bed. There is a small writing desk and chair in the corner and a dresser on the other side with a flat screen TV on top. And in front of the bed is a padded, brown suede bench. Portrait paintings of Edward, Emmett, Jasper and Alice fill all the walls.

Edward turns to me. "You'll find the ensuite through the hallway, and there are towels in the linen closet. Alice likes to use this room, so she has girly shampoo and things in there. Just help yourself." He stands in front of me, stroking my hair from the top of my head to the ends. His hand lingers near my jaw. "If you need anything, just let me know." He stares into my eyes. "I called my staff. They're already doing prep. So, I told them we would have a quick meeting in a half hour. Will that give you enough time?" His eyes look at my lips.

I smile. "Yeah, that's fine."

"I'm not going to rush you into anything. I won't push you." He takes a long breath, "I feel like a hamster in a running wheel not too sure where I am going. I've never felt like this before, Bella, but lady, you fucking own me already." And he smoothly cups my face with both hands, leans down and gives me the softest kiss that sends chills all over my body.

Then, he turns and walks out of the room. I stand there like a puddle of goo.

,I whisper to myself, "Own him. I just found out his last name!"

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX**

I take a five minute shower, moisturize my face, apply makeup, brush my teeth and hair, and get dressed with new panties. I walk out of the room with seven minutes to spare.

I find Edward in the kitchen, holding a huge cup of tea. "I was going to bring this to you." He hands me the cup.

I take a sip. "Hmm, honey. Thank you."

"Yes, Dear, I know you like honey." He smiles. I giggle. "Are you hungry?"

"This is fine, thank you. I'm not much of a breakfast person." I mumble through the cup.

Edward grabs a mug of coffee and takes a large gulp. "We can eat, after the meeting, okay?"

"So what's this meeting about?" I ask, blowing on my tea,

"I'm going to tell everyone I finally found us a capable pastry chef." He gloats.

I look at him. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yeah, I've never shown any nepotism." He kisses my nose. "It's time that I do."

We make our way down the stairs, through the alcove and Jasper's bike catches my eye. As we pass, I smooth my hands over the seat and handlebars. "Another Harley Wide Glide!"

Edward chuckles, "Yeah, Jasper and I bought them together." He takes my hand. "Nervous?"

"Yeah, a bit. The last time I walked into a kitchen I wasn't very welcome." I lower my head.

Standing between the bikes, Edward reassures me. "They're going to love you, and you're good."

I smile up at him. "Thanks."

Edward opens the door and we walk into the kitchen area. Everyone is busy at their station, but look up to greet us. He announces for them to join us in the dining room.

Once we get into the dining room, everyone files in and takes a seat, as Edward basically drags me to the piano.

A very tall, thin man in chef whites shouts out, "The prodigal son returns."

They all laugh.

Edward bows his head with a smirk and sneaks a look at me. I sit on the bench looking around. I can see these people love him, admire him.

"Yeah, well, your vacation is over. I'm back to stay," he declares.

A very tall, blonde with jagunda mammaries squeaks with a high-pitched, nasal whine, "Did you finally get rid of the ass?"

They all laugh. Edward smiles at me. I shrug and roll my eyes.

Edward seriously clarifies. "No, Carrie Anne, I think Julia will be a very significant employee here."

So nasal boobs says, "Are you gonna have her stand out front …" She stares at me. "With your new _friend_ on top?"

The room becomes dead silent. All look at Edward.

He clears his throat and raised an eyebrow, looking at Jugs Galore. "I was thinking of a flashing, neon sign draped over her. What do you think? Which has nothing to do with Bella. She's our new pastry chef."

I smile and everyone shouts out, 'hello'. Then, Edward floors me.

"And she's my girlfriend who happens to know her sweets." He winks.

I hold my breath and look around. Apparently, I am the lucky lotto winner, because all the girls, except for Carrie Ann Coconuts, lock me into a group hug.

Tall chef walks over to Edward and shakes his hand in approval, but this Carrie Canoodle needs to be handled.

We all settle back in, as Edward explains about the carriage rides, the new set up for special occasions and my role as pastry chef. The entire time, Carrie Cantaloupes gives me the evil eye. Yeah, I will have to deal with her sooner than later.

I barely pay attention when Edward is by my side kissing the top of my head. I smile up at him, as Bitch Boobs makes a disparaging snort.

Okay, that is it for me. I look at Edward, whisper, 'I'm sorry' and lay into her.

I stand up and walk towards her. "And what is your problem, Carrie Anne? I'm not blind, I can see your hateful face in distortion and your behemoth, moose call; both very unattractive."

She spits, "You don't deserve him!"

"And you are judge and jury?" I counteract. There are 'ooos' and 'ahs' in the background.

Edward starts to walk towards us. "Carrie Annie, you're fucking out of line."

She puckers her reddened face, "Since when are you a chubby chaser, Edward?"

And she slaps me across the face. Her words are one thing, but the slap? I haul back, palming my hand, hitting upward and smacking her nose, throwing her backwards. "Don't you ever touch me!"

The applause deafens the dining room. Carrie Anne straightens up, looks around at everyone, seeing their disapproval of her snippy behavior. She runs out of the restaurant, holding her bloody nose while Edward cups my cheek. "Are you alright?"

In the background, I hear, "Great shot, Bella. We're finally rid of the bitch."

Alice walks around the side and hands me an ice pack. "Place this on your cheek, Bella. It's pretty red."

I whisper a 'thank you' while Edward takes the pack and places it on my cheek. "Thanks, Alice."

I look up at Edward. "What was her problem?"

"Carrie Anne is the daughter of one of the top food critics in the city. Her daddy asked me to give her a job."

Alice interjects, "Yeah, she has been a pain since day one. Never did her job and always bugged Edward."

Edward adds, "All fucking, protocol bullshit."

Alice smiles. "I do believe you are going to fit in here very nicely, Bella."

Jasper places a hand on my shoulder. "Thanks, Dorothy, you just melted the wicked witch."

I look at Edward. "Is this going to cause you a problem with her father?"

Edward snorts. "The opposite. You got us out of a fucking, nasty jam, baby. The fact that she hit one of my staff will rectify our agreement as null and void."

Alice giggles. "And it doesn't hurt that you are Edward's girlfriend. It gets personal." She sings, "I bet Edward will have many raving reviews the rest of the year, as his daughter will be shipped off to Europe."

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX**

As the kitchen staff return to prep, Edward drags me into his office. No sooner does he close the door, his lips meet mine. "You have no idea what you just did."

"No, but I guess it was good." I smile.

"Other than pesky customers, you just made my work environment very pleasant, Miss Swan," he mumbles into my hair.

Between kisses, I ask, "When do you want me to start?"

He chuckles, "I thought you just did."

I laugh and roll my eyes. "I meant…"

Edward interrupts me with a tender kiss. He sits on his desk and pulls me between his legs. His hands remain on my hips. "I was thinking you could start over the weekend." He smooths a hair out of my eyes.

"I've got to go to Cafe du Monde and quit." Hmm, he smells so good.

"Will you come to the stables with me first, then we can hit the Quarter?"

I happily smile. "Yeah, I'd like to see Julia."

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX**

We enter Julia's stall and she approaches me nuzzling her nose to my face. "Hey girl, did you miss me?"

I pet her ears and long neck, as Edward watches. "I think she likes you more than me." He reaches for two brushes and hands me one. We both brush Julia down on opposite sides.

"Not true. We females may bond together, but we are fiercely protective over our males."

"And which one of you females are you talking about with me?" He slyly smirks.

"Well, she's your mule, but I'm your girlfriend!" I whisper.

He stops brushing. "Bella, my parents met at Charity Hospital over thirty-five years ago. My mother had an emergency appendectomy and my dad was her surgeon."

I look up at him. "Really?"

"And when my mother left the hospital, my dad ran after her. He told her he knew her inside and out. He professed, no predicted he would marry her."

"So, how long did it take for him to convince her?" I ask.

"A week. He sent her flowers and wrote her poetry," Edward recalls.

"He swept her off her fucking feet. Still does." He huffs, "I used to make fun of him all the time about the poetry." He shakes his and and smiles. "But I fucking get it, now."

My mouth dries up, I try to swallow, but I drop my jaw. I clear my throat. "This is just weird. My mom and dad went to high school together. They met in freshman year and married right after graduation." Edward nods. "Yeah, that's why she didn't want me to marry so young. She wanted me to experience what she didn't."

"Did your mom get pregnant right away?"

"No. They had trouble conceiving, but I guess I sneaked through for them, ten years later. Aunt Sally said that I was this a miracle baby."

Edward walks around Julia, wraps his arms around me and mutters in my ear, "Thank God for miracles."

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX**

By the time we leave the stables and get to the Quarter, it's overcast. The sky threatens rain and the cold, bitter air stings our faces. We hurry into Cafe du Monde and I leave my letter of resignation with Angela. I make a mental note to keep in touch with her.

As we walk out of the Cafe, we see Garrett ride past. Edward tells him he has a proposition for him and I smile, knowingly.

"What are you smiling about?" He brings me closer to him.

"You're going to offer him a carriage job, aren't you?" I smirk.

"I have a feeling we're going to need more than one driver," he says.

We walk across the street to the artists around the Square. Edward holds my hand, entwining our fingers together.

Jimmie sits on the corner, looks up at me with surprise and turns away from me. I frown wondering why he is so standoffish.

Then, I see it.

Oh, then Edward sees it.

In slow motion, Edward pulls Jimmie out of his chair and throws him into his paintings on the wrought iron fence.

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX**

Aw oh, what did Edward see to set him off?

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX**

A/N: Thank you to my Beta, Sunflower Fran. I appreciate her time, her proper grammar and quick pen. Another great find by PAD!

To Robseve and Postapocalypticdepository (PAD), my pre-readers that give their unselfish time and creative input. Both of these ladies are inspirations and true friends.

Now, let me rec Postapocalypticdepository stories, since she so graciously rec'd mine.

Never Judge by the Cover: 9056924

Boys Will Be: 8868006

Rude Awakenings: 8876785

It's a New Dawn, It's a New Year: 8862243 (complete)

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX**

And thank you to all the readers, whether you review or not. I enjoy every comment and suggestion. Yes, NOLA (New Orleans, LA) is an exciting place to live. And to combine the old world with the new is a challenge, but the humor is quite a serious business. My objective is for all of you to smile, after each chapter.

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX**

Recipes:

**Champagne Cake with Fresh Strawberries**

**cake:**

4 cups sifted cake flour

5 teaspoons double-acting baking powder

1 ½ teaspoons salt

2 ¼ cups sugar

¾ cup vegetable shortening

1 ½ cups champagne (pink)

¾ cup unbeaten egg whites

1 ½ teaspoons vanilla

2 cups strawberries, sliced

Sift together flour, sugar, baking powder and salt. Add shortening and 1 cup champagne. Beat for two minutes, until batter is well blended. (medium speed of mixer). Add ½ cup of champagne, egg whites and vanilla. Beat two minutes. Pour mixture into 3 lightly greased 9" layer- cake pans. Bake 350 degrees F 30-35 minutes.

**frosting:**

1 cup butter softened

4 cups sifted powdered sugar

¼ cup milk

¼ cup champagne (pink)

1 teaspoon vanilla

5 ½ cup additional powdered sugar

½ teaspoon salt

Beat softened butter for about 30 seconds in mixer. Gradually add 4 cups of powdered sugar. Beat in milk, champagne and vanilla. Add the rest of the sugar and salt to the thickness you want.

Once cakes are cooled, frost and place strawberries around the top border and bottom of the cake.

You can use pink food coloring in the cake batter and the frosting if your want a color effect.

**Crepes Suzette**

1 cup all-purpose flour

½ cup milk

½ cup less 1 tablespoon water

2 eggs

2 tablespoons butter, melted

2 teaspoons orange juice

1 ½ teaspoons orange zest

¼ teaspoon salt

Butter

Whisk all ingredients until the batter is smooth. Place in refrigerator for 20 minutes, before making the crepes.

Melt a tablespoon of butter in crepe pan low/medium heat. Pour 3 tablespoons of batter into pan and swirl around, until pan is covered in thin layer of batter. Cook for 1 minute, flip and cook on other side for 1 minute. Repeat, until you have used all the batter.

**Orange syrup:**

16 tablespoons butter (2 sticks), divided

4 tablespoons granulated sugar, divided

4 ounces of Grand Marnier, divided

In a large skillet over medium heat, melt half of the butter until it foams. Add half the Grand marnier, watch skillet to not catch from heat and add half the sugar. Add crepes to pan to coat with syrup. Place each crepe on plate folded in quarters.

Add the rest of the butter, sugar and Grand Marnier, making more syrup.

Top with Vanilla ice cream and pour orange syrup over.

**Lavender Creme Brulee**

1 ½ cups heavy cream

½ cup half and half (light cream)

1 tablespoon dried culinary lavender

8 egg yolks

⅓ cup granulated sugar

¼ granulated sugar for topping

½ teaspoon vanilla

Preheat oven to 300 degrees F

In a medium saucepan (med. heat), you place heavy cream, half & half & dried lavender just to boil & remove from heat. Cool to room temperature for 45 minutes. Pour through a fine-mesh sieve and set aside. discard used lavender. Clean sieve.

Whisk egg yolks in a large bowl, until light in color. Slowly whisk ½ cou sugar, the lavender cream & vanilla. Beat for 90 minutes.

Pour eggs & gream through a mesh sieve into a large (4 cup) liquid measuring cup. Divide the mixture between 6 ramekins. Place ramekins into a pan & fill pan halfway with water.

Bake custard on hot water bath 55 minutes to 1 hour, until custard is set.

Cool custard in the water bath for 20 minutes & refrigerate, until they are chilled.

Sprinkle the remaining ¼ cup sugar over the tops of the custard & caramelize the sugar with a small, handheld kitchen torch.

**New Orleans Bread Pudding with Rum Sauce**

1 Loaf French bread, torn in chunks

1 quart milk

2 cups sugar

2 teaspoons vanilla

3 eggs

1 cup peeled apples, diced

½ cup raisins

3 tablespoons melted butter

Soak bread in milk for 30 minutes. Mix sugar, vanilla, eggs and apples.

Combine with bread chunks. Spread melted butter on bottom of 13" x 9" x 2" pan. Fill with bread mixture. Bake at 359 degrees about 30-35 minutes, until bubbly & hot,\.

Rum Sauce:

½ cup butter

1 cup sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla

1 egg

rum to taste 3 tablespoons

Cream butter & sugar. Add vanilla. Slowly stir in one egg and add the rum. Heat for 5 minutes over low heat. Drizzle over each individual portion.

**Opera Cake**

Almond Sponge Cake:

6 large egg whites, room temperature

2 tablespoons granulated sugar

2 cups ground blanched almonds

2 ½ cups confectioner's sugar, sifted

6 large eggs

½ cup all-purpose flour

3 tablespoons melted butter, cooled

Espresso syrup:

½ cup water

⅓ cup sugar

1 ½ tablespoons espresso

Coffee Buttercream:

2 tablespoons express

2 tablespoons boiled water

1 cup sugar

3 tablespoons of water

1 teaspoon vanilla

1 egg

1 egg yolk

14 tablespoons butter, room temperature

Dark Chocolate Ganache

8 oz bittersweet chocolate, chopped

½ cup whole milk

¼ cup heavy cream

4 tablespoons butter, room temperature

Chocolate glaze:

5 oz bittersweet chocolate, chopped fine

½ cup butter

To make the almond sponge cake:

Preheat the oven to 425F. Line two 15-inch by 12-inch pans with parchment paper and brush the surface of the paper with butter. Set them aside for a moment.

Using an electric beater, beat the egg white on high until they become foamy and start to expand. Sprinkle in the sugar, one teaspoon at a time, until all of it if incorporated into the egg whites. Continue beating the meringue until it is glossy and holds stiff peaks.

In a separate bowl, beat the ground almonds, confectioners' sugar, and whole eggs on medium just until the mixture becomes light and foamy. Gently stir the flour into the almond batter.

Gently stir 1/4 of the almond batter into the whipped egg whites. Fold the remainder of the almond batter and the melted, cooled butter into the egg whites. Divide the sponge cake batter between the two prepared pans and bake the cakes for 5 minutes, until the surfaces spring back from a light touch.

Cover the top surface of each cake with a fresh piece of parchment and carefully invert them onto a clean surface. Slowly peel back the old parchment from the cakes and allow them to rest loosely over the cakes to prevent them from drying out.

To make the espresso syrup:

In a small saucepan, set over medium heat, bring 1/2 cup water, 1/3 cup granulated sugar, and 1 1/2 tablespoons instant espresso to a boil. Allow the mixture to cool for 5 minutes. Set it aside to brush onto the cake later.

To make the coffee buttercream:

Stir together the espresso powder and boiling water and set the mixture aside for a moment. In a medium saucepan, set over medium heat, bring 1 cup sugar, 3 tablespoons water, and 1 teaspoon vanilla extract to a boil. Continue cooking it until it reaches 255F on a candy thermometer. Remove the sugar syrup from the heat and allow it to cool slightly.

In a separate bowl, beat the egg and egg yolk until they begin to get fluffy. Continue to beat the mixture and add the hot sugar syrup to the bowl in a smooth, steady, slow stream. Once the syrup is incorporated, mix in the reserved coffee mixture. Continuing to beat on medium-high, add the butter, one tablespoon at a time, until it is fully incorporated into the buttercream.

The coffee buttercream is completely once it turns thick and fluffy.

To make the ganache:

In a medium saucepan, set over medium heat, bring the milk and cream to a boil. Remove the pan from the heat and stir in the chocolate. Continue stirring the chocolate for 2 minutes, to insure a completely smooth texture. Stir in the butter and continue stirring the ganache for 90 seconds.

To assemble the cake:

Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper. Cut one 10-inch by 10-inch square out of each layer of cake and place it on

the baking sheet. Brush the cake with the espresso syrup. Carefully spread 3/4 of the coffee buttercream over the surface of the cake.

Place the two spare rectangles of cake over the buttercream, and then brush them with espresso syrup. Spread the ganache over the cake in a smooth layer. Place the last layer of cake over the ganache, brush with espresso syrup, and then spread it with a thin layer of the coffee buttercream. Chill the cake in the refrigerator for 1 hour before glazing it.

To glaze the cake:

Clarify the butter by boiling it and skimming off and discarding the solids. Melt the chocolate in a double boiler and stir in the clarified butter until the glaze is smooth. Pour the chocolate glaze over the cake and allow it to set in the refrigerator before serving.

**French Meringues**

2 egg whites

1 teaspoon vanilla

½ cup superfine sugar

Preheat oven to 300 degrees F (150 degrees C). Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

In large bowl, beat egg whites until stiff, but not dry. Gradually beat in sugar until a little of the mixture between your thumb and forefinger feels smooth, not gritty. Stir in vanilla. Pipe or spoon small portions onto baking tray and bake 35 minutes, or until dry but not brown. Turn off oven and leave meringues to cool inside.

**Lemon Madeleines**

1 cup all-purpose flour

½ cup butter

¼ cup confectioner's sugar

2 eggs

1 cup white sugar

1 teaspoon baking powder

¼ teaspoon salt

2 tablespoon lemon juice

⅓ cup confectioner's sugar for dusting

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Mix flour, butter and powdered sugar thoroughly. Press evenly into an ungrease inch o inch square pan. Make a little rim up the edges to hold in the filling. A quarter inch or so will do it. Bake 20 minutes.

Beat remaining ingredients about 3 minutes, until light and fluffy. Pour over the hot crust, spreading it out evenly.

Bake about 25 minutes longer or until no imprint remains when touched lightly in the center. Remove from oven, sprinkle the extra powdered sugar on the top, if you like. Cool, cut into squares.

**French Lace Cookies**

½ cup all-purpose flour

¼ teaspoon baking powder

½ cup white sugar

½ rolled oats

2 tablespoons light corn syrup

⅓ cup melted butter

2 tablespoon cream

1 tablespoon vanilla

Sift together flour, baking powder and sugar. Add oatmeal, light corn syrup, melted butter, cream and vanilla. Blend well. Drop on ungreased cookie sheet 4 inches apart, using 1/4 teaspoon as a measure. Bake in 375 degree F (190 degrees C) oven for 5-7 minutes. Let stand a few seconds before removing from pan.

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX**

Next up: EPOV


	17. Chapter 17

Under My Nose

Edward Cullen sets a deadline of six months to find his true love, before he turns thirty. Leaving his successful restaurant to drive a mule-drawn carriage in the French Quarter of New Orleans, he searches for the meaning of true love, because he has yet to understand it. Will he know when he finds her or will she be right under his nose? Can bubbly, buxom Bella tantalize his taste buds with beignets and an abundant booty?

A/N: Thank you to the readers who review every chapter. There are a handful of you. I appreciate the love, and I find your input very helpful. When we get into further chapters, I will send you another surprise. Again, thank you for your constant support.

Chapter Seventeen:

EPOV: January 4

All I see is red, and I feel the fucking burn throughout my body.

Everything blurs, as I lunge forward and pin fucking Jimmie up against the fence. Paintings fall smashing to the ground, but I hold him steady with outstretched arms. I hear Bella begging me to let go of him and stop, but my focus is on this little, fucking leech who had the audacity to display those fucking paintings.

My jealousy roars through my veins spiking my strength as I lift Jimmie raising his feet off the ground, squeezing him tightly around his fucking, scrawny neck and drawing the life out of him.

Bella pulls on my arms pleading, "Edward, stop, he can't breathe. Please, let go."

A crowd begins to surround us with people murmuring in the background.

I stare at Jimmie's pale face, and then Bella's, and I start to release my grip, until I feel myself being shoved up against the fucking fence by two, massive police officers.

"What's the problem here?" one of the officers shouts.

Jimmie holds up one hand while the other soothes his neck. He swallows and rasps, "Officer, there has been a terrible misunderstanding. Please, let him go."

I look surprisingly at Jimmie trying to catch my breath as the cops hold me back.

Jimmie approaches them. "Look, he had every right to do what he did. It's all right." He looks at me. "Edward, will you let me explain?"

I nod my head still breathing heavily.

Both officers let me go and give me a warning. They break up the crowd, moving them along and walking away to finish their patrol.

Bella helps Jimmie pick up his overturned chair, and he gingerly sits, grabbing a thermos, drinking quickly and coughing hoarsely. He regains his composure looking up at me. "I swear I wasn't going to display the paintings of Bella. When I left this morning, I was pretty late, and I didn't realize her portraits were there."

I clench my jaw with a tight grip and I speak through gritted teeth. "And she fucking posed nude for you?" I squeeze my balled fists by my sides, trying to compose myself. I look at her, bewildered. "You posed for him?"

Bella looks on in horror, between anger and shock, shaking her head and staring at the two portraits. "I didn't!"

"Listen, man, Bella never posed for me. I did ask her." Jimmie explains. He looks at Bella, then at me. "She has this honest beauty. You can see her ball busting attitude in her smile." He laughs. "She called me on my fake, French accent, for Christ sakes. I had to paint her."

She bites the inside of her cheek, but she backs away before I can reach for her. "And I said, 'no'," she barely whispers. Her eyes fill with tears, and she looks away.

"I got here about half an hour ago. I'm still setting up." He coughs. "I found the two portraits and laid them aside. I wasn't going to display them." He pleads with Bella. "I swear to you, Bella, I wasn't going to sell them. A customer grabbed them up and turned them around. I swear; I didn't have them out."

She wipes her eyes with her hands. "Then, why did you paint them? Yeah, that's my face, but that isn't my body."

"I'm an artist, and I used my imagination, Bella. I painted your beautiful face by memory, and I gave your body the curves and lines I thought it deserved."

"But you looked away, when I approached you," she points out.

"I knew you would see the canvases, and your friend here …"

I interrupt, "Boyfriend."

Jimmie looks on with surprise. "Oh, hey, I'm sorry. Look, I meant no disrespect. I-I-I didn't know."

Bella shaking her head and quietly mumbles, "I'm going to the Cathedral."

Jimmie yells after Bella, "I'm sorry, Bella … I'm sorry."

I watch her walk away, her head down and her arms around herself, trying to keep it together.

"I'm sorry," Jimmie apologizes. "I didn't mean any harm. She's a special lady."

"You like her." I say watching his expression.

Jimmie gets up, starts to pick up the canvases placing them back up on the fence. I help him.

"Yeah, she's a nice girl. So, ah, you're together?" he awkwardly asks.

I nod.

"Look, take the paintings, give them to her." He shoves them into a cloth bag and holds them out to me. "And tell her I'm sorry, I didn't mean … She's rare, man."

I take the bag. "Thanks. And thanks about the cops. I'm sorry; I lost it." I look at the Cathedral. "This is all new to me."

Jimmie turns around and faces me. "This is when I tell you to treat her right, because if you don't, I'll be picking up your mess, if I ever get a chance."

I adamantly warn, "Not going to fucking happen, man."

"See to it!" Jimmie extends his hand, and we shake.

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX**

With the paintings under my arm, I walk into the Cathedral, look around and down the long, center aisle. I see Bella lighting a candle near the offerings altar.

I slowly walk up to her, bend close to her ear and whisper, "I'm sorry."

She sarcastically whispers, "That's why I'm lighting a candle. There's a whole lot of sorry going on here."

I lower my tone and nervously ask, "Can we please, go outside and talk?"

She kids. "Are you afraid God will overhear, Edward?"

I frown. "No, I don't feel like fucking whispering." I extend my hand, and she takes it. We walk down the aisle to the front doors.

"It's so beautiful here." She looks around and giggles. "I look at the paintings on the ceiling and think of my room at Aunt Sally's."

I mumble, "You won't find any blowjobs on these ceilings."

She honestly smiles. " Yeah … Oh, but Edward, the chandeliers," She points up. "The stained glass windows." She points at the windows. "The tile floors and the wooden pews are so pristine and holy." Her uptake of the Cathedral is like a child in Wonderland. "I've never seen anything like this."

"It's the oldest Cathedral in North America. There's some serious history here." I say.

She nods. "You can feel it."

We walk down the long aisle, into the vestibule and out through the front doors. Many psychic readers set up their tables in front of the church entrance. Go figure that one. There's a brass band to the right. playing some jive, marching music, and in between, there are a handful of vendors selling water and soft drinks, snacks and candy, and souvenirs.

We turn the corner to find a row of performers; a guy in a Zoot suit and top hat painted silver from head to toe with a boom box and a Voodoo man stands next to him with floor-length straw that hangs from his feathered headdress and clothing. He carries a cane with a bone-white, skull handle, and multi-colored, Mardi Gras beads hang from his neck. And next to them, a woman lies on her back with her legs up, spread wide, bracing a guy playing guitar. I don't get the point of that, but that's New Orleans.

We pass by face painters, portrait artists, and a woman that creates the art of henna, so her sign says.

And around the corner another brass band leads a second line. I look and point for Bella to see. "It's a second line."

"What's a second line?" she asks.,

"It's people celebrating an occasion following a brass band, having fun, getting into the music. And people on the sidelines, root them on, shout and clap. It's a lot of fun." I explain.

She starts to dance around. "We can join in?" Her hands reach out to me.

I take her hands. "Yeah." I nod.

"That's so crazy; and no one minds?" She still dances.

"No, they welcome it. The more the merrier." I start to dance with her.

The band strikes up a playful version of "When the Saints Go Marching In". People follow the band singing and dancing. Some wave colorful Mardi Gras and Saints flags, while others carry brightly-colored umbrellas and flashing wands.

On the sidelines, watchers snap their cameras or phones, others hoot and holler and some clap their hands and join in.

There are about fifty people that follow the band. All sing at the top of their drunken lungs, and I pull Bella in a different direction.

"No more second line?"

"We can create our own silent line." I smile and kiss her hand.

We walk a few blocks down Decatur Street, not a word between us and she still holds my hand, as I lead her into one of the faded-red, double-doors of Cafe Maspero for an early lunch. I need to eat, and I know Bella has to be hungry.

Avoiding the long tables, we sit in the back at a small table across from one another. The place is a bar, slash deli, but gives off the vibes of an old tavern, with brick walls and rounded archways. A waitress takes our drink order and gives us a few minutes to decide on our meals.

I finally look at her. "Are you pissed at me?"

"You were every bit a Neanderthal," she says without a hint of emotion.

"Bella…"

She interrupts shooting an eyebrow up. "I wasn't finished."

"Sorry." I apologize.

"As I said, you were such a caveman, Edward." There is a hint of a smile, as she bites the inside of her cheek. I tentatively reach across, and she allows me to pull it free as I caress her jaw. She closes her eyes and hums. "You're distracting me."

I softly say, "Isn't that a good thing?"

"Oh, Edward." Bella releases a big sigh. "You scared me when you wouldn't let go of Jimmie. I thought you were going to choke him to death. God, you're so strong."

I plead, "I don't know what came over me. I just saw your naked body and lost it, Bella. What was I to think?"

"First, it wasn't my naked body, and second, exactly what you thought." She slightly smiles.

She surprises me, and I feel the tension leave my shoulders. "So, you're not mad?"

She rolls her eyes. "I don't get mad, that's a dog thing. But I was scared for Jimmie."

"He likes you." I quietly announce.

"I met him once, and we talked all of ten minutes." She huffs.

With my eyes down, I play with her hand. "That's all it takes, Bella." I hesitantly look up at her.

"He was looking for a model. He thinks he's Peter Paul Rubens," she blurts out.

"He still likes you," I quietly repeat.

"Well, I thought I liked him as a possible friend, but after this painting thing …" She trails off.

"He gave me the paintings to give to you." I show her the fabric bag at my feet.

"Well, I don't want them." She mumbles.

I look directly into her eyes. "I want to keep them."

She looks at me curiously. "Why?"

"So when I finally do get you naked, I can compare." I wiggle my eyebrows.

She laughs. "Believe me, I don't have long legs."

I stare quickly to her chest. "But you do have full …"

She interrupts, "Yeah, well, I know I have handfuls."

"All the more to touch you, Bella." I glare at me.

She changes the subject. "Do you know what I was thinking when I walked to the Cathedral?"

Bella bites her cheek.

"Stop that!" I pull. "No, what were you thinking?"

"How amazingly hot you were; all macho and protective of me." She gives me a half smile and blushes.

I sit up and question. "Yeah?"

Oh, she nods her head and grins. "Yeah."

The waitress comes back to the table with our beers. We decide on a roast beef and a corn beef sandwich to share, with steak fries, and order calamari for an appetizer.

After a short sip, Bella puts her mug down. "You really want me as your pastry chef?"

I smile. "That, and a few other things."

Bella tugs at my hair. "Stop."

I grab her hand and pull her to me, kissing her lips. "I like teasing you. You get all hot and bothered."

"And how do you know?" she questions.

I laugh. "Your eyes do this twirly thing."

She protests, "They do not."

I kiss her again. "Okay, they don't, but I'm hot and bothered."

"I'm going to have to hose you down." She threatens.

I whisper in her ear, "As long as you get wet with me, I'm all for it."

She leans forward and kisses me, talking over my lips and staring into my eyes. "I'm not one for PDA, but if you keep making comments like that, I swear Edward Cullen, you won't be able to stand up; rock hard dick revenge. You got me?"

Out of reaction to her words, I place my hands over my lap. "I got you."

"Good." I get three pecks, and she sits back down.

The waitress brings us our calamari and Bella shoves a chunk into my mouth. As I chew, she tentatively nibbles on a piece. "This is really good, usually they are so hard and rubbery."

"You talking about food or sex?" I grin slyly.

"What happened to 'I'm going to give you time, Bella'?" she mocks.

I sigh, wipe my mouth with my napkin and take her hand. "Sorry, you don't make it easy."

The devil is in her eye. "Oh, I can be very easy."

The waitress brings us our sandwiches and asks if we want anything else. Bella thanks her, and she leaves us to our food.

Bella puts half her sandwich into my plate. She pulls a piece of corn beef into her mouth, moaning. "Edward, this is really good, very lean, but the difference between here and New York is a half sour pickle, and coleslaw."

She wraps a piece around her fingers and stuffs it into my mouth. I tighten my lips around her, chewing the meat. She stares at my mouth in a daze. "Did you want digits with that corn beef?"

"Only yours, baby!" I chew.

I take my other half of roast beef sandwich and place it on her plate. I feed her a taste, and she gives it back to me by holding my hand, swallowing the meat and licking my fingers. Ah um, sucking my fingers.

With half-closed eyelids, she emphasizes every word. "You don't play fair, I won't play fair."

Fucking ballbuster! I swallow hard.

I clear my throat, take a gulp of my beer and lean back onto my chair. "Okay, business. My restaurant is open Tuesday through Saturday. We serve lunch at 11:30 to 2:00 and dinner begins at 5:30. During the week, we close at 9:30, but the weekends we are open until 10:30. There are prep hours, so you run into a 40-50 hour work week. Am I scaring you away?"

"For me it's a piece of cake … literally. What's the name of your place?" Bella asks. "I mean, I didn't get a chance to see the sign, when you …"

"When I kidnapped you," I interject. " It's Savoureux."

"Tasty." She smiles, bites her cheek and I lean forward and pull gently. "You're going to be the death of me."

She leans forward and whispers, "Ah, Edward, when I want to kill you with TLC, it will be a very … slow … death."

She takes a bite of her sandwich and chews. I swallow hard.

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX**

What is a poboy?

Okay, for super yum! A po boy is a submarine sandwich from the Louisiana area that has meats; roast beef, turkey, ham, fried shrimp, catfish, soft-shell crab, or oysters. The French bread is a crispy crusted, long baguette that's soft in the middle. And should you want it all dressed; you add lettuce, tomatoes, pickles and mayonnaise. Non seafood Po Boys have mustard. Oh, and the roast beef is smothered in a dark, brown gravy.

The French fry po boy will tickle your palate. An open-face baguette with a pile of hot, crispy fried potatoes, smothered in dark, brown gravy.

It doesn't get better than that.

Oh wait, it can. Fried shrimp. Lots of fried shrimp. I mean, piles of shrimp in a sandwich; all crunchy and spicy. There is fried catfish with a crispy crust with moist fish on the inside. Mouth-watering, delicious and filling.

The sizes of a Po boy can vary, too. Basic is six inch, but you can get them two-three feet long. That's dinner for a week.

New Orleans every year has a festival in honor of the Po Boy. It's called the Oak Street Po Boy Festival (Yes, on Oak Street in the Carrollton area.) that features all kinds of Po boys, live music, arts and gives awards for the best and creative Po Boys.

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX**

A/N: Thank you to my Beta, Sunflower Fran. I appreciate her time, her proper grammar and quick pen. Another great find by PAD!

To Robseve and Postapocalypticdepository (PAD), my pre-readers that give their unselfish time and creative input. Both of these ladies are inspirations and true friends.

Now, let me rec Postapocalypticdepository stories, since she so graciously rec'd mine.

Never Judge by the Cover: 9056924

Boys Will Be: 8868006

Rude Awakenings: 8876785

It's a New Dawn, It's a New Year: 8862243 (complete)

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX**

And thank you to all the readers, whether you review or not. I enjoy every comment and suggestion. Yes, NOLA (New Orleans, LA) is an exciting place to live. And to combine the old world with the new is a challenge, but the humor is quite a serious business. My objective is for all of you to smile, after each chapter.

**XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX**

NEXT UP: BPOV


End file.
